Obsidian
by BlondeChick2009
Summary: Amidst a time of peace and a dimming marriage, Fire Lady Katara journeys back home to the Southern Water Tribe to reconnect with her people. While there, she meets a nomadic firebending artist whose scar is as striking as his work. As the moon wanes and her visit ends, the stranger molds an image of his life much different from what history knows to be true. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! So this is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered Avatar fic. It's also a refreshed attempt at multi-chaptered stories in general.**

**This is an AU in which the 100 year war instigated by the Fire Nation in the show never happened, and the battle against Ozai didn't either. Instead, you will see a new set of wars have come and gone. My story is the aftermath and consequences. The history I have created will be known as the story progresses. Characters and some events from the show will still appear as though they took place, just altered slightly to fit my story line. Enjoy~**

**Thanks to my wonderful friend, Sarah, for being my beta and for sharing ideas!**

**Chapter 1**

"The full moon is in a few days; I will return soon afterward."

Katara watched Himitsu's eyes brighten momentarily and crinkle into a smile at her declaration. The older lady reached over the table where the two sat and clasped Katara's hands between her own and gave a light squeeze. Katara smiled back.

"I am excited to see my family. I have not met my nephew yet. Sokka and Suki were so anxious about the pregnancy last time I was there."

Himitsu nodded, an understanding frown tugging at her lips. Katara felt pleasantly warm that Himitsu remembered and comprehended the months-old worry. Gisō certainly had not.

_"Women miscarry, Katara. Children die."_

Himitsu clucked and patted Katara's hand reassuringly. Katara realized she had been glaring at the tabletop. She shook her head. "His name is Tikaani—their little wolf."

Katara's friend nodded again, more rapidly than before. Her face carried an emotion that said the name was well-chosen. It was a strong name for an undoubtedly strong boy. At least, Katara hoped that's what Himitsu was conveying. Years of the woman's silence had taught Katara how to read her eyes and lips and gestures. Yet sometimes the young Fire Lady still feared she was simply making up what she wanted to hear from Himitsu.

Katara sighed. "I wish you could tell me not to worry."

Himitsu's eyes clouded, and Katara immediately recognized that emotion. She regretted her words and was about to say so, when Himitsu waved off her apologies. The latter continued patting Katara's hand.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I wanted to tell you about my plans so you wouldn't miss me. Gisō isn't coming…"

Himitsu frowned again and shook her head. She was right, Katara thought. Best not mention sad things.

"I'll tell you all about Tikaani and the rest of the tribe," Katara continued, brightening as she thought of her family again. "I'll tell you about the feasts and the festivities. I heard that many traders come to the south now—even more than the last few times I've been home."

Himitsu stood, still nodding to indicate she was listening, and began clearing away the used tea things. Katara let her eyes sweep over the tiny kitchen of the palace infirmary as Himitsu bustled.

"My father might be even more excited than Sokka is, if you can believe that." Himitsu beamed as though to say, "What parent wouldn't be excited to see his child?"

"I'll speak to the healers there. I'll see if they have any information for your patients."

Again, Himitsu nodded. She grew serious in expression and pointed out the door to where Katara knew the patients lay. The nurse then pointed at her eyes and made trailing motions with her fingers. Katara knew what she meant.

"The blood tears?"

Himitsu nodded, grimacing.

"I will ask the healers what we can do."

They both remained silent. In Himitsu's case, she stood still, holding the teapot and staring off into space. Katara felt the heaviness of the moment in her limbs. She hadn't been able to do anything for Himitsu's charges either. They just bled randomly from the eyes. It hadn't been fatal yet, but Katara was worried.

As if she wished to throw the gravity of the silence from her skin, Himitsu gave herself a shake and continued cleaning. Katara inhaled and stood. "I guess I'll go now. I have to make sure my things are prepared. I'm leaving by airship in the morning."

Himitsu steered around the table and gathered Katara into her arms. The Fire Lady melted right into the embrace. They stood like that for a few moments until Himitsu let her go. Be good, she mouthed, grinning affectionately. Katara rolled her eyes like a teenager. Himitsu seemed to know what it could be like when siblings reunited.

"I will be. Take care. I'll bring you back luxurious and terribly expensive Water Tribe jewelry."

It was the nurse's turn to roll her eyes. She began shooing Katara out of the kitchen and the younger laughed.

After the door had shut behind her, Katara let her smile drop. She began the long walk back to her chambers. Night was falling, and Gisō would be wondering where she was. The corridors were all but deserted. The stray servant or two would stop long enough to give a rushed bow before scurrying off to their appointed rooms.

The long, high-ceilinged halls grew darker until the nightly torches flared into life via a mechanism Katara thought Sokka would drool over. She blinked a few times to clear her vision of light spots and kept walking. The warm glow cast fluttering shadows of the tapestries lining the walls. Even in the din, Katara knew their stories by heart. The Epic of Gisō.

She didn't spare the rich embroidery a glance. She knew she should have been nervous with anticipation over her upcoming journey, but Katara found she could not stop thinking about Himitsu and how much she loved the woman.

Himitsu and her lifelong silence, Himitsu and her compassion for the sick and lonely, Himitsu with her simple red frocks and high laced collars—the only extravagance she allowed herself. Himitsu and her ability to be there for Katara without fail.

Katara stopped and wiped her eyes, irritated by the flames and smoke. She was happy in the Fire Nation. She truly was. She was simply lonely and had no one she could really talk to. It was a cruel twist of fate that her only friend couldn't talk back.

"Visiting Himitsu?"

Gisō did not look up from the scrolls he was poring over when Katara entered their chambers. He finished the page before carefully rolling the document up and placing it with identical ones on the great ebony desk. Only when they sat neatly did he give his wife true attention.

Katara hummed an affirmative. "She still can't figure out what is wrong with the people weeping blood."

Gisō's mouth set in a hard line. "It is most unfortunate," he intoned. "At least we can be thankful it isn't contagious."

Katara hummed again and stared into the fireplace. She was used to this sort of speech by her husband. Artfully contrived double-entendres were his specialty. It had taken Katara many years to master knowing them. In this moment he may have meant earnest gladness that the sickness had not spread. His sycophants would certainly assert this line of reasoning. But while the Fire Lady's first duty was to her husband and people, Katara thought her first duty was to _know_ her husband and people. And she knew that his expression now was one of relief that she hadn't caught the blood tears or given it to him.

She barely moved when his hand slid around hers and his chin came to rest on her shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?" His breath raised gooseflesh on her neck. Gisō was romantic tonight.

"Tomorrow," she murmured.

"Ah, yes." He kissed the base of her ear and her skin prickled at the sensation. "I'm sorry I cannot accompany you." His hands slid down her arms to the ties at the back of her robes.

Katara gave a mumbled response. Romantic the Fire Lord may be, but honest he was not. She did not care that he didn't regret staying. Her robes dropped and his sweat-dampened palms began kneading at her lower back while his lips brushed over her shoulders. Her body was slow to awaken to the touches. It craved the touches…or at least wanted to.

Afterward in bed while she was wide awake on half-satisfied lust, she asked her dozing husband what his plans were while she was to be away.

"Just the same old diplomatic rigmarole, sweetling."

"Such as?"

"It is not overly important."

"I was just wondering."

Her tone seemed to antagonize him. He sighed and turned over to look at her. "I'm meeting with representatives from the Earth Kingdom about drawing new boarders. I'm going to dine with dignitaries from the Fire Nation colonies while sincerely apologizing that my much more astute hostess of a wife is not here. I'm going to listen to the Avatar's latest problems."

"Aang is coming?" She did not hide the interest she felt. "How is that not overly important?"

Gisō narrowed his eyes. "Your familiarity with the Avatar has never ceased to amaze me." His tone indicated an emotion much different from amazement, but Katara did not acknowledge it.

"A meeting with the Avatar seems pretty significant to me, Gisō. What does he want to talk to you about?"

"My dear, please do not worry yourself over this. You should be getting sleep. Your family will be concerned if you arrive tired and sick."

"If Aang needs help with something—"

"_Aang_ can get all the help he needs from me and the other leaders. His problems are none of your concern." The Fire Lord flipped over and became silent.

Katara studied the back of his black head. The jet curls encircled his ears becomingly. He had always preferred wearing his hair shorter than most Fire Lords before him. No one batted an eyelash at this slight breach in tradition. Katara had found it quite dashing when they married.

Four years felt like an extremely long time. Married life hadn't been all that enlightening for Katara if you did not count all the changes that came with becoming Fire Lady. She didn't feel like she had really changed as a person. If anything she had just become less willing. Less willing to argue, less willing to try.

It had happened within the second year. At first she had been shy and happy around Gisō. Happy to touch him, happy to listen, happy to see two warring empires finally rest easy and shake each other's hands. Maybe she had changed a lot after all.

Even with her exhaustion at the prospect of fighting, she couldn't stop herself from saying, "Aang is my friend, and I think I am entitled to hear his problems and help him."

The broad shoulders and brawny back went rigid and she could hear Gisō straining to remain calm. He never, ever shouted at her.

Indeed, when he spoke next, his voice was perfectly measured. "I know that you are close to Aang, my turtleduck. He brought us and our nations together." Gisō turned back over and ran a gentle finger over her arm. "I care about his problems, too."

It wasn't an answer. Once again the Fire Lord was skillfully dancing around the issue. Katara blinked twice before nodding. If he wasn't snapping out at her about Aang's dilemma, then Gisō had no idea what it was, which meant Aang had found it too pressing to put in a letter. Something was brewing and Gisō knew it. And it was daunting enough to leave the abnormally cool firebender agitated.

"I know you do," Katara whispered. "I'm just worried about leaving for such a long time. What if you need me?"

Gisō smiled at her, and Katara felt the girl in her titter gleefully. He had a dimple in his left cheek that made him look years younger and so charming. "I will always need you, Katara. But as much as I need you, you need your family and the ocean. Do not let this week's political woes keep you from matters important to you. Everyone needs to step away at some point."

"Everyone except you."

"I find time, occasionally."

Because you never step up in the first place.

Katara smiled back, sleepily. She allowed herself to be pulled against him, and the two fell asleep just like it was three years ago.

It was just before dawn when Katara and Gisō woke. She was scheduled to leave in another hour or so in order to make it to the Southern Water Tribe by shortly after sunset. Even travel by the high speed airship would put the trip at ten or twelve hours. Katara was not worried about flying. Sokka had had a hand in creating the ships after the peace treaty had been signed. She was going to be travelling in safety if not in style.

She grinned at the thought while her maid brushed her hair. Sokka was so practical sometimes. She was sure that everything but comfort had gone into his plans for the ship. The kitchen was sure to be well prepared, however.

The rush of affection and anticipation that she did not feel yesterday surged through her now. She missed Sokka and Suki and her father greatly. She missed the frigid temperatures of her native home after months of the dry heat offered by the volcanic environment here. She missed the otter-penguins and the screaming, ecstatic children who rode them. She missed waterbending entire waves and playing with the tides. She missed the connection with the moon. She missed her people.

It had taken some time after her marriage for Katara to recognize the Fire Nation inhabitants as her people. She felt connected to them now; felt responsible for them. For a while she had felt like they were someone else's children and she was babysitting. Of course she wouldn't let anything happen to them if she could help it…but she was glad to get away from them and back to her own.

She knew she would miss them when she left, but the prospect of seeing her brother and tribe again stifled the sensation.

Once she was finished with her morning toiletries, Katara assumed picking out appropriate attire. She settled on a lovely, but simple, scarlet dress with minimal embroidery and ornament. Black panrilla skin slippers slid onto her feet like a second skin, and she topped the assemble off with a black travelling cloak of fine linen. In her trunk were her Water Tribe garments. She would enter as a Fire Lady, but stay as a Tribesman.

Accoutrements donned, she set about making sure the lower domestic staff knew to keep her private rooms prepared for any special dignitaries or statesmen's wives who needed housing. She was not against providing the best for her guests, even if she was not there to receive them. The maids and footmen nodded solemnly and promised prime service. Her personal maid kept fussing with her hair and smoothing out any wrinkles that appeared on the cloak.

"Really, Lana," Katara laughed. "That will do."

Lana tutted like it would not do at all. She did not think Katara was splendid enough for her departure.

Katara took one last look in the wall mirror and sighed happily. She reached for Gisō's pro-offered arm, stepping close to his side. He grinned down at her. "You look lovely in this light, my dear."

Katara scoffed. "You can barely see me in this light, _my dear_."

Her husband snickered and kissed her temple. "I'm teasing. You are radiant as any Fire Lady or Chieftain's daughter could possibly be. More radiant even, the sun could not do you justice, the stars—"

Katara laughed as his free arm swept overhead and his voice began to boom into the dawn. "Alright, alright! I do not think the upper towers heard you."

Gisō chuckled and tightened his hold on her arm. "I will miss you, Katara. I hope that you return refreshed and relaxed and ready to face the day."

They had reached the hanging wall dock along the postern wall of the palace. The airship hovered, ready to receive her. The captain of the craft bowed deeply, placing a fist to the heel of his hand. This obeisance was followed by his men and women.

"My Lord, my Lady. Captain Long at your service. I have just finished my third and final inspection of the ship and personally guarantee its reliability and readiness for our journey. My Lady, you will of course be sailing with the Fire Nation's finest crew and soldiers personally selected by your Lord husband and myself. We should make excellent time according to international weather reports. Do you have any inquiries?"

Katara doubted even her father, the renowned Southern Water Tribe Chief and par-excellence military commander, would find fault with Captain Long and his ship and staff. She smiled widely at the man and shook her head. "Everything appears magnificent, Captain. You may ready the engines."

Captain Long looked to the Fire Lord, whom nodded. He bowed once more to both of them before saying, "I will dispatch two messenger hawks to you, my Lord. Once when we are approximately halfway to the Southern Water Tribe and once more when we arrive so you can rest easy." With that, he signaled his crew and they climbed aboard. Lana and one foot soldier hovered nearby to assist Katara.

The Fire Lady turned to her Lord. "Please, if you need anything from me, write to me?"

Gisō looked down at her and smiled softly. "I will write to you as much as I can, turtleduck. And you must write me about all your adventures."

Katara's mouth twitched. She knew neither of them would write the other.

"Tell me if there is an emergency regarding Aang."

Gisō's amber eyes left her blue ones and his face seemed to harden infinitesimally. "I will make sure there are no emergencies worth the parchment."

"Good-bye, love."

"Good-bye, Katara." He planted a quick kiss on her cheek and stepped back a pace.

She let the hurt she felt pass over her face for only a second. Then she turned and gestured for Lana and the soldier to follow her onto the airship. The soldier appeared a trifle green.

"Your name, sir?" She asked as they climbed.

The boy, for he was barely nineteen by the looks of it, paled under his greenish hue. "Cale, my Lady."

"Are you an Earthbender, by chance?"

Cale looked sheepish. "Is my fear of this contraption that evident?"

Katara patted his arm as he aided her final steps onboard. "It will be fine, my good man. You are flying with a healer, after all."

Cale blushed a bit, but looked better nonetheless. "Thank you, Lady Katara. I will serve you loyally."

Katara looked over the swarming crew. "I'm certain of that, Cale."

Once they were aboard, a cry went up and the gangplanks were pulled in. All flying ropes were pulled up or untied from the docking posts, and several men with long poles reached over the side and helped push the flying machine away from the wall. The Fire Nation and Southern Water Tribe flags were hoisted.

The gust of wind that resulted whipped Katara's cloak about her. Her hair remained in place thanks to Lana's stern ministrations earlier. The girl in question looked smug as she surveyed the coif.

Katara had eyes only for Gisō, however. The crew ran to and fro, Lana was trying her hardest to get Katara to go below decks.

"The air is bound to get worse, my Lady."

But Katara heard none of it. Gisō was turning around and striding back inside.

He had not waved.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here we go, chapter 2! Thank you to those of you following and liking my story so far! And thank you to everyone who has given it a read. I hope that you continue to enjoy it. And did you all see Korra this past Friday? AHHH! (PM me if you want to spazz about it, I don't want it to be spoiled for anyone who hasn't seen it yet!)**

**Thanks again to Sarah for being a great beta!**

Chapter 2

Katara need not have troubled herself over Cale.

Granted, the earthbender boy had begun the journey with clenched fists and white knuckles, but now he stood at the head of the ship, enthralled by the view of the sea before them and the clouds around them. His stocky form was rigid, and his one arm was flung out. The other looped around a rope. He was hale and hearty and more than likely repressing a whooping cry of ecstasy.

It was Lana heaving over the side, sniffling miserably at the idea of being sick in front of her mistress, despite Katara's consoling murmurs. When the poor girl returned to Katara's side, the waterbender continued passing a cool, water-gloved hand over her sweating brow. There wasn't much she could do for the nausea until they were on firm ground.

It was going to be an arduous nine hours. The last hour had not been pretty. She was still simmering from her less than pleasant farewell with Gisō, Lana would not stop apologizing for vomiting in front of her, and Cale was surely about to topple over the side…

"Cale, if you do not back up, I swear I will see you stripped of your rank."

Cale leapt back from the railing and spun around. His cheeks were flushed—with embarrassment or exhilaration, Katara could not tell—and he bowed quickly.

"My apologies, my Lady, I did not realize how fun this would be."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't apologize. Lana is doing that enough to last me a lifetime."

Cale frowned anxiously at the girl curled at Katara's side. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Of course she is. She's just airsick. There is little we can do until we land."

Cale nodded but continued to look piteously on the maid. An hour and a half and the boy was already in love. Katara rolled her eyes again. She supposed any young man with eyes would find the nymph-like figure of the pretty redhead a picturesque image. Especially with the way she tossed her lovely face to and fro and moaned weakly.

Katara huffed and stood. Cale snapped out of his silent worship and hastened to follow. "No, no," Katara held up her still gloved hand. "I'm simply retiring below to my rooms. I have guards down there already."

The command to watch Lana need not have been spoken.

Upon reaching her rooms and shooing away the guards' questions after her comfort, Katara tossed her travelling cloak onto a divan and sprawled across her bed. It was surprisingly cozy and soft. She had to remember to thank Sokka for his uncharacteristic forethought. She remembered belatedly that he had had help on the project…

Raised voices roused Katara from dreams of snow and laughter. She sat up and stretched, casting sleepy eyes around the room for the possibility of a wall clock. There was none. The voices grew louder.

Exasperated, Katara scrambled out of the bed and stomped over to the door and flung it open.

Cale was quarrelling with the guards.

"What's wrong with Lana?"

The boy blushed crimson. "She's got a fever, my Lady," he bit his lip. "She won't take a drink."

Katara frowned. That didn't seem normal to airsickness. She dismissed the protesting guards and followed Cale back to the deck. "I didn't want to move her anywhere," the boy was explaining. "She seemed so miserable."

Katara softened toward him. His adoration of the girl was kind of cute. "You were right not to move her, Cale. I will take it from here. Go find me some sweetened water from the kitchens."

Cale nodded and bounded off.

"Lana?"

The maid opened her eyes. "My Lady, I don't feel well."

Katara smiled kindly at her. "You have a fever. I will take care of you."

For a moment Lana's shiny eyes widened in horror and Katara thought she was about to have a fit. "My Lady…your hair!"

Katara's hand flew up. The display of braids Lana had so meticulously manhandled into submission this morning was a mess. Katara looked shamefaced for the girl's sake. "I'm sorry, Lana! I fell asleep. You will have to give me another gorgeous makeover when you're healed."

Lana giggled deliriously. "It will be my pleasure, Lady Katara." She lay back on the divan Cale had led her to.

Katara furrowed her brow and set to work. Lana appeared to have exacerbated her simple airsickness into a fever panic. There was nothing else wrong with her. Katara checked twice and brought the fever down using her bending and the sweet water Cale had returned with.

After twenty minutes of working, Katara beamed up at the pacing Cale. "Crisis averted. She might still be sick from time to time, but I've calmed her down." She stood and stretched, and then handed the sweet water skein to Cale. His eyes widened.

"You should watch her for a little while. I need to speak to the Captain. Sit with her and make sure she drinks frequently."

Cale turned red and sputtered. "But, but my Lady…is it appropriate? What if an officer sees?"

Katara turned on him with a stony stare. "Then they would see a soldier doing his duty. Being in the Fire Nation's infantry is more than bending and swordplay, Cale. A soldier should always know when to fight and when to serve." She glanced back at Lana. "He should also know how to fight non-traditional enemies."

Cale stood straighter and his chin rose in pride. "Yes, my Lady. I will see that she is taken care of."

"Good."

Katara grinned smugly to herself. Where that bout of inspirational wisdom had sprung from, she was uncertain. Perhaps it was the cooling air. The closer she came to home, the more confident she felt.

She found Captain Long at the front of the ship giving orders to several young men and women. It seemed to be a learning exercise designed for new sailors; several of them were looking wobbly and others leaned so far forward on their toes to hear every word, Katara thought they'd tumble. She stood a few paces away, loath to interrupt an important lesson.

"And remember," the captain admonished, "incompetence of any sort will not be tolerated on this ship or in my fleet as a whole. You must be aware of all that you do and of the repercussions that could ensue. Sailing is not to be taken lightly."

Katara repressed a giggle at the unintended pun and watched as the rookies filed past her. Each stopped, wide-eyed, to pay respect. She inclined her head to each, smiling.

"My Lady Katara," Captain Long approached her and bent. "How may I be of assistance to you?"

"Good morning, Captain. Or rather, should I say good afternoon? Do you have the time?"

The captain straightened. "Yes, it is just after midday, Lady. I sent the messenger hawk to the Fire Lord moments ago."

"I slept for a long time, then!" Katara exclaimed. "I hadn't realized."

Captain Long's strict temperament and immobile face melted a pinch. He smiled gently at her, and Katara was struck by how much he reminded her of her father, Hakoda. The captain couldn't have been much older than the Southern Chief. "You were tired, my Lady. It is not surprising you needed to recuperate. Awakening early and air travel—even the smallest amount—will take it out of you."

"Thank you." Katara looked out over the ocean and breathed in the salt air. Far to their left, the horizon betokened the Earth Kingdom territories. Pelican-lizards screamed and soared around them, seeking morsels. "Do you still think we will reach my home by sunset?" She indicated the distant mass of gray clouds.

"Oh, indeed. I have been sailing for years, my Lady." He chuckled as if his age amused him. "I started on the water but traded it for the sky. Best decision I ever made." His eyes searched her face. "I know true storms when I see them. Are you well?"

Katara stared back at the wind battered face and clear brown eyes. She needed her father very much, all of the sudden. She swallowed hard and shook her head up and down. "Yes, I'm well enough, Captain. Thank you for such a smooth journey."

The old gentleman placed his fist to the heel of his hand. "The honor could not be greater, Lady Katara."

* * *

Katara observed that only two hours remained in the trip. The sun was making its way west and the air had dropped in temperature considerably since their departure. She retired below deck and retrieved a white yak fur coat from a trunk. She slid it on over the scarlet dress and hugged herself. The fur was a home away from home.

She gazed briefly to her sleeping maid. Lana had finally stopped being sick and had kept some of the cook's stew down. Katara had been mildly surprised. Because she was the guest of honor, the cook had prepared numerous traditional Water Tribe meals. The sea prune stew hadn't been much of a hit among the sailors, but Lana had eaten it with gusto. Perhaps hunger had won out over preference.

She carefully closed the door behind her and stepped over Cale. He snored heartily in the hallway, glued to Katara's and Lana's sides. Katara rolled her eyes but grinned.

Out on the deck, sailors ran back and forth, barking orders at each other. It was pouring cold rain. She sought the captain and found him at the helm.

"I thought you said you knew real storms when you saw them?" Katara kept a jovial expression.

Captain Long quirked a lip. "This is nothing, my Lady. A little rain never hurt anyone."

Katara scrutinized the scene on the ship. After a minute she realized something. "There are no waterbending sailors."

The captain hesitated momentarily. "There were no applicants, my Lady." He sized her up for a few seconds before going on. "I have always had the feeling that the waterbenders are still having a hard time adapting to the firebenders. Unrest was all they knew for years before the treaty was signed and you wed Fire Lord Gisō. It might all look nice on paper, but folks are still distrustful."

Katara's heart sank a little. She wasn't so naïve to think that her marriage would solve the world's problems. She had been hopeful that things would be almost entirely fixed by now, though.

Rather than respond to the captain's admittance, Katara walked purposefully to the center of the deck. She wasn't one to hide behind wedding silks and gilded doors. She had worked hard to make the Fire Nation better. She had spent countless hours with Himitsu in the infirmary after the war and later on, and she had accompanied Gisō on several outings to assess damage and create building projects and community aid services. Now she knew that she must expand her attentions to the other realms.

She stood still as earthbenders, firebenders, and nonbenders ran back and forth to make sure everything stayed on course. Even a few airbenders who hadn't found their destiny among the monks were present in the Fire Nation's International Reserves. About a dozen could be seen creating bursts of wind for the stock-still masts that helped the engines move the ship.

There wasn't much for her to do. She wasn't a qualified sailor like Sokka or Hakoda. But she could keep everyone comfortable. Taking deep, centering breaths, Katara slid into bending form.

The atmosphere seemed to slow around her. The shouts became muffled, as though she was hearing them from under the ocean. She stepped her right foot to the side until her left leg was slightly bent. Her arms pulled back to her sides, and she shifted her weight to her right leg and pulled her left leg with her until her heels touched.

Next, she spun in a slow circle, arms out to either side. Every few seconds she would stop spinning and stand straight with her legs together. She repeated this pattern, and the rain stopped.

Collective gasps and murmurs of awe did not distract her. She smirked to herself and continued her dance. The airship sailed on, and the rain simply moved around it. If the soldiers didn't know better, they might think she had created an invisible force field around the craft.

A few appreciative cheers went up. Katara was pleased. She knew how uncomfortable working in a polar deluge could be.

Katara kept the dance up for the near half hour that the rain continued to fall. Once it cleared off, she allowed her aching muscles to relax. Cale was immediately at her side, helping her to a divan.

"My Lady, that was incredible!"

"I didn't want everyone soaked for hours. Did people dry off?" She felt giddy and dizzy. She hadn't bent like that in months.

Cale nodded vigorously. "Everyone was really happy you did that. You even had the captain smiling."

* * *

The minutes crawled by while Katara made circuit after circuit around the deck. She had watched various benders scrimmage together in practice, had watched nonbenders contest with numerous and terrifying looking weapons she could not name—except the boomerang—and she had spoken to many different sailors. Many of them ingratiated themselves immediately. A few shuffled and mumbled nervously around her. One or two were suspiciously steely-eyed at her presence. She remembered their faces, but let the glares slide. For now.

Excited voices drew her to the front. People were pointing and laughing; a few had their tongues out.

_Snow._

Katara glided to the rail, gently moving men and women aside. They moved willingly, a few touched by her emotion.

"I can see it," she whispered.

The vast sheets of snow and ice spreading out like blank canvas below the ship only meant one thing. The South Pole. Within a few minutes, the occasional outer village would fall under the ship's shadow. Katara was leaning precariously, trying to see…

"My lady."

Katara turned and saw the captain holding out a pair of high-power binoculars. She felt her elation grow and took them.

At first she could see nothing but white. Slowly, she got the lenses to focus and found what she was looking for. Members of the Southern Water Tribe were looking up, pointing, and smiling excitedly. Children ran along after the ship, waving merrily. Katara waved back, even though she knew no one could see.

"How much longer until we land?" She asked the body nearest her.

"Only fifteen minutes, Fire Lady," a woman answered.

Katara stepped up onto one of the benches that lined the rails. A few soldiers closed around her to make sure she'd keep her balance, though no one reprimanded her action. She felt a smug satisfaction. She wrapped an arm around one of the many ropes leading up and up into the masts, just as Cale had done earlier, and watched her home appear. Holding up the binoculars once more, Katara began searching.

She found Hakoda first. His distant figure was gesturing and instructing the Tribe's movements. Waterbenders were already moving water in intricate patterns to make her arrival spectacular. Women and children were waving banners covered in the waterbending sigil. It looked like people were already cheering. She didn't hear it over the roar of the engines.

Katara kept sweeping the binoculars back and forth, picking her family friends out of the crowd. They were passing over the village—over the tents and ice fortresses, over the skating rink someone had engineered between now and her last visit, over her childhood home…

And there he was.

Sokka was standing outside the landing space the waterbenders had cleared. He was astride a camel, looking up at the ship with uncontained wonder. Laughter burbled up from Katara's belly. She let go of the rope and waved wildly. Several pairs of hands reached out to steady her.

The descent began. Katara looked at Sokka again to find that he had been joined by Suki—his wife, the Kyoshi warrior whom came from the Earth Kingdom. They had met during the war, and Sokka had fallen hard. Literally. The Kyoshi warrior had attacked him, mistaking him for a Fire Nation spy. It had been the beginning of something beautiful.

Katara watched the both of them as the craft neared the ground. When she no longer needed the binoculars, she pulled them away and watched as Sokka finally found her in the line of soldiers. His eyes widened and he scowled. Katara stared, mystified as he withdrew his trusty boomerang, pulled his arm back, and let it fly.

She tracked its path. The spinning instrument hurtled through the air and began arcing around the ship. Katara felt her mouth drop open as the boomerang seemed to ignite. She narrowed her eyes—no—not the boomerang—_a tower_.

Gasps erupted around her as the area encircling the ship lit up in the twilight. The boomerang was still wrapping around. It was in the process of somehow lighting towers spread out at every twenty feet or so. Sparks would cascade from the tops of the towers, and blue and red flames would snap into life. Katara felt tears prickle at her eyes.

"Lady Katara," a voice interrupted her gazing. Sokka had caught the boomerang and was stowing it away. She turned around. Captain Long extended a hand. "Shall we?"

A ramp was lowering to her left. She grasped the gentleman's hand and stepped down from her perch. Lana and Cale were there, both appearing better than they had the entire ship. Lana looked mildly horrified. Katara's hand flew to her hair and she held back a laugh. Everyone was smiling and saluting her.

She cleared her throat. "Thank you all for your service and kindness during this flight. I hope for you all to join the festivities this evening and in the coming days. My home is yours."

Cheers went up and Captain Long began leading her down the ramp. Near the bottom she dropped all pretenses and raced into her family's arms. Sokka caught her first.

"Sokka!"

"What do you think you were doing standing on that ledge like that? What if you fell? Were those binoculars? Do you still have them? I can't believe you would recklessly endanger yourself when you were almost home free."

He was hugging her so hard Katara didn't have breath to answer his tirade.

"Can't you believe it? Sokka, your sister needs to breathe." Katara sent an appreciative look at Suki. The warrior was smiling. "Hello, sister."

"Suki!" She embraced her sister-in-law tightly. "Where's Tikaani, I want to meet him!"

"I'm not done yelling at you!" Sokka huffed.

"I'm sure you'll be doing a lot of that while Katara's here. The both of you will do a lot of yelling." Hakoda beamed at his family and held out his arms. "Katara."

She lost herself in the safety of his hold.

When she backed up, Sokka was still glaring at the ship. "How did you know the towers would light? That was phenomenal!"

Suki put an arm around her husband. "He was out every day measuring exactly where everything needed to be. He got some Fire Nation traders to help him with the powder and spark-rock boomerang."

"Sokka!" She threw her arms around him again. He patted her back, embarrassed.

"Well, I just wanted your landing to be special."

"It was; thank you. Thank you all!"

Someone cleared their throat. Katara blushed and turned around. "Of course. I'm sorry, Captain. Dad, this is Captain Long. Captain Long, Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and commander of the fleets."

The men shook hands, scrutinizing one another. They seemed to like what they saw.

"Thank you, Captain, for bringing my daughter home safe." Hakoda bowed to the captain.

"It was my honor and duty to see the Fire Lady fly in comfort and safety. I thank you for your impending hospitality. My crew will be happy to spend some time on the ground."

Hakoda nodded. "Of course. Once they are finished with the ship, my men will direct them to where they will be staying. Will you join me and my family, now?"

"It would be a privilege."

Katara beamed at them both. Sokka was hopping from foot to foot, clearly impatient to get moving. "Let's go, Katara, there is someone you have to meet and a dinner you have to eat."

Katara and Suki grinned and rolled their eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hope my American readers enjoyed their weekend holiday; I certainly had fun! And to all of my readers, I hope that you find this chapter as exciting as I found it while writing. **

**As always, special thanks to my beta, Sarah!**

Chapter 3

The feast was going to be huge.

The vast tent spreading out across a normally barren snowfield looked like it could seat a thousand people. The creamy yak-hide canvas rumpled in the breeze, but the structure stood firm. Water Tribe symbols decorated the panels, alternating with the Fire Nation emblem. Katara felt a glow of pride. Her people here respected her marriage and honored her new life.

"How did you get the supplies for all of this?" Katara asked as they passed by the festival tent. They were to first stop at Sokka and Suki's home so she could freshen up and meet Tikaani.

Sokka adopted his arrogant professor demeanor and held up a finger. "It was no big deal, but we first needed the Northern Water Tribe's cooperation." His narrowed eyes suggested they had got anything but their sister tribe's cooperation.

Katara blinked and then turned to Suki. "They sent help right away, didn't they?"

Suki laughed and Katara could practically hear Sokka deflate behind her. "They sent supplies ages ago. Since you visit twice a year, they wanted to make sure this meeting would be even grander than the spring one. The next few days are going to be so fun, Katara."

Sokka sidled up beside his wife. "Always stealing my thunder." He kissed her head.

Katara grinned. "I'm sorry, Sokka. Please, tell me how you negotiated terms with our stubborn sister tribe."

The exaggerated version of Sokka's battle of the words with Chief Arnook and Master Pakku ended outside his door.

"Master Pakku is here?" Katara asked eagerly.

Sokka's arms lowered from their flailing above his head. "Yeah. He wouldn't want to miss the arrival of his best student, would he?"

Katara's heart warmed even more. While the war between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes had been in its final stages six years ago, Hakoda had agreed to send Katara northward to study with Master Pakku. The pretense had been that Katara, at eighteen, was more than ready to hone her skills, yet she knew her upcoming marriage had Hakoda wanting her to be able to defend herself at all times. He hadn't needed to worry so much; Gisō had been perfect. Katara frowned a little.

"The Northern Water Tribe travelled all the way here to see me?"

Sokka fiddled with the elaborate locking system on the door. "Yep! And for the next few days traders and performers from all over the world are going to be setting up shop." He straightened and pushed the door open. "Now, don't go putting on airs or anything. We've been having market days like this for months now. This one just happens to coincide with your visit."

Katara gave him a look and he dropped his antagonizing smirk. "The only one who won't be here is Aang."

Katara walked by him into the home, followed by Suki and Lana. Cale remained on guard outside the door. "I know. He is seeking audience with Gisō this week."

Sokka shut the door and Suki whisked into a room to relieve the babysitter. "I was wondering why the old man didn't come with you."

"Sokka, just because Gisō is ten years older than me doesn't make him old."

"Right, right. Hey, are you okay? Are you still having trouble with…stuff?"

Before she could answer, Suki returned carrying a noisy bundle. Sokka puffed out his chest and went to stand beside her. "Katara, meet your nephew."

Katara stepped forward, hands wrapped tightly within the long sleeves of her yak furs. Tikaani stared up with large blue eyes, equally as curled in furs. Katara felt her heart expand and she loosened her arms. Suki passed him over. He settled into her hold easily and cooed up at her. Tears filled her eyes. "He's perfect."

"I thank his mother for that." Sokka was staring intently at Suki while she watched Katara sway Tikaani. Katara's throat tightened as she looked at the pair. She focused back on her baby nephew. His skin was lighter than hers and Sokka's, but not quite like Suki's. His hair was dark and looked like it might be curly when he got older. He had a high forehead like his father and pretty little lips like Suki did.

"You're going to break so many hearts," she said in a baby voice.

Sokka beamed. "My little warrior is going to get the best of both worlds. Do you know when he might start bending, if he can?"

Katara examined the gurgling baby in her arms. "He's how old now? Four months?" The parents nodded. "It's hard to say at this young age. I've known benders to exhibit their gifts as early as two years. It's rare, though. The average age is something like five years."

Sokka looked trifle put out. "That long?"

Suki laughed. "Don't tell me you'll favor our benders."

Sokka scowled. "Never in a million years would I favor one child over another. Unless one became a gourmet chef."

Katara quit listening to their banter. She walked around the room, staring down at Tikaani. He yawned. "I am so in love with you," she whispered. She bent away her tears.

Lana was standing shyly on the edge of the room. Katara tilted her head, coaxing the girl closer. Lana's nervousness vanished as she looked at Tikaani. "He's wonderful, Lady!"

"He's my favorite nephew."

"He's your only nephew, Lady."

"I don't care; he'll always be my favorite."

"Hey, we said we weren't going to show favoritism!"

A knock at the door signaled Hakoda's arrival. "So you've met the Water Tribe's newest warrior?"

"And Kyoshi's!"

Hakoda nodded. "Of course. What would the Earth Kingdom do without him?" He took Tikaani when Katara offered him. "He'll have so many fantastic teachers."

He looked at Katara. "Your captain wished me to tell you that he sent the second hawk. The Fire Lord should have it within two days or so."

Katara nodded and said nothing. She could tell her father wanted to ask about Gisō, but that he didn't want to make her upset. Instead he went on. "The festival is going to begin in an hour."

A little shriek went up and everyone spun to look at Lana. She ducked her head, face glowing. "I apologize, everyone. Lady, I must make sure you are ready for the party."

Everyone laughed.

* * *

In forty-five minutes Lana had once again tamed Katara's thick mane into an intricate display of braids and…

"Hair loopies!"

"Sokka, I'm not done yet, get out of here!" She threw a shoe at him and he retreated, snickering. Katara sighed and settled back on her chair. Lana was smiling. "Your brother is very glad you're here, Lady."

"I'm very glad to be here. I've missed all of them so much."

Lana gently tilted Katara's head and began applying her makeup. "I do not have any siblings. Sometimes I get very lonely because of it."

"I'm sorry, Lana."

Lana looked at her in the mirror. "It's okay, Lady. I have many friends I see at the palace."

Katara held the young girl's gaze. She had and odd combination of features that were not unpleasing. Her red hair was pulled back in a simple bun known to the maids of the palace. She had green eyes and freckles, and her pale skin had become a bit wind burnt from the journey. Katara wondered who the girl's parents were, but thought it rude to ask. Instead she said, "Friends are just as important as family. I'm sure you think of your friends as your sisters." She couldn't help but think of Aang. She missed him.

Lana was nodding and putting away the cosmetics. "I love them very much. Have you decided what you want to wear?"

Katara stood and approached her trunks. She still found it hard to believe she had this many articles of clothing. "I want to wear something native to the Water Tribe," she determined. "But I also want people to know I love the Fire Nation."

Lana analyzed the wardrobe. She held up a finger. "I think I've got it."

Katara smacked her palm to her forehead. "You're starting to do the Sokka thing."

Lana waved her accusation away. "I think this dress would do, as well as this cloak. It isn't too heavy, and I imagine that despite the cold, that tent will get pretty warm with all the people." She set different garments aside and handed the dress to Katara. A few minutes later, the Chief's daughter was dressed in her finest. A dress of the best Fire Nation silk clung to her, the red bodice darkening into the cobalt embroidered flames. Carefully placed sequences created the illusion of flickering. Over top of this, she wore a comfortable cloak of pure white fur.

Lana next handed over several pieces of Fire Nation jewelry. The pieces she selected were of rubies set in metals of dark gray and complemented the marriage necklace Gisō had given her very well. Her mirror showed a brand of fire calmed in snow. Katara inhaled. "Let's go."

* * *

The music was near constant.

Not that this was a bad thing. Katara's people were enthralled. Before and during the war, the Southern Water Tribe had had an underdeveloped taste for music. The main reason for this was very simply their location and lack of supplies for anything but the drums and horns used in ritual. "The Hunter's Heartbeat", a rhythmic cacophony of drumming, was pretty much the anthem of the South Pole.

With the end of the war, however, things changed. Katara's marriage and the good tidings it brought had made everyone take things a little less seriously. People lightened up and there was a sudden craving for art and music. Trade erupted.

The whole process was in evidence tonight. A band of mixed race was performing everything from the Earth Kingdom's national anthem to obscure love songs about ancient Avatars. Tsungi horns, pipas, djembes, simple drums, and flutes were in use. The combination was harmonious. People danced and sang along. Katara grinned and felt it down to her toes when the Water Tribe began singing the Fire Nation's anthem. She almost choked on her water as Secret Tunnel began to play next. Sokka almost threw his plate.

The food consisted of Fire Nation and Water Tribe dishes. It was clear to Katara that this was a special case for her benefit; many of her tribesmen were red in the face and panting dramatically after trying fire flakes and dragon-spiced chicken. Sokka was in tears. It didn't stop him from tasting everything at least twice.

Her crew was equally as pleased with the variety. Speckled throughout the tent, she saw her soldiers and servants conversing with the tribesmen. Only their formal uniforms marked a difference. She spotted Cale talking to Bato. Cale kept shooting glances over the man's shoulder. Sure enough, Lana was sitting at the next bench, giggling with Tikaani's babysitter. Suki held the baby now, on Sokka's right.

Once everyone was fully involved in their own conversations, Katara looked to her dinner partners. At the long table where she sat as the guest of high honor, her father had graciously placed her next to Master Pakku and Captain Long. Master Pakku was asking her about her bending. Sokka, who sat on Captain Long's left, was hounding the man with questions about the ship.

"Sokka, you helped design it," she heard Suki chide.

"I know, but that doesn't mean anything new hasn't been done to it!"

Master Pakku chuckled. "Your brother has not changed an ounce in six years."

"Trust me, it's congenital." Katara shook her head in exasperation.

"You would know better than I." Master Pakku stared at her, and Katara felt herself shrink. She couldn't help but think he was about to demand a complete list of every waterbending form known to man. He turned back to his dragon-spiced chicken. "You have changed quite a bit."

"Have I?" Katara scooted her kelp salad around on her plate.

"Oh my, yes. But you mustn't blame yourself. Crowns have a habit of making women compliant."

In the sound, logical portion of Katara's being she recognized the goad. Master Pakku's moon peach wine slopped over the brim just as he went to take a drink. It was a very small part of her being.

A thin eyebrow arched. He put the goblet down and dabbed at his robes with a napkin. "I'm becoming clumsy. Or maybe you meant for something more drastic to happen."

Katara lurched to her feet. The resulting silence rang in her ears more than the chorus of Secret Tunnel ever had.

She glared down at Master Pakku. He looked back, unfazed. Her fists clenched and everyone's drinks started sloshing around. "You're lucky the soup course is over," she growled.

"Well, if a temper tantrum is all you can muster, I daresay I would have done alright."

She could hear Sokka moan into his hands and her father clearing his throat. But these were bubbles in a sea of Master Pakku's soundless laughter. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his challenges.

Katara turned to the hushed crowd. Full moon eyes contemplated her. People in the back were inching away, but most people craned forward eagerly. "Ladies and gentlemen," her voice was steady. "As a surprise for your entertainment, and thanks for your honorable welcome tonight, Master Pakku and I will be putting on a waterbending demonstration."

Without waiting for the onslaught, Katara whisked out of the back flap behind her. She heard Hakoda directing the crowds to the bending field.

"Katara, why? Just why?" The word was drawn out on a moan.

"Because he insulted me, Sokka." She strode through the snow, removing her furs as she went. Lana had appeared at her side. She took the robe.

"He insulted you all the time back then!"

Katara didn't stop. She took off her bracelets and necklace and handed those to Lana as well. "And what did I do then?"

Sokka continued stomping after her. "You fought him," he grumbled through gritted teeth.

"Exactly." They had reached the bending field. Two large vats of water stood at either end, awaiting the combatants. "I fought him. I proved every insult wrong. You know why? Because I can't let it go. I can't be told I can't do something just because I'm a girl or just because I'm young. I was told I couldn't help fight in the war because of those reasons. And you know what? Aang needed my help. You and I were some of the only ones who could see the finish to that war. It lay in peace talks, and that's what we helped Aang do. I was told I couldn't marry someone just because it might make people hate each other a little less. I proved that wrong, too. And guess what? For a time, I was happy."

Sokka's vexed expression loosened. "Katara, I didn't…"

She waved him away. "And yes, this latest insult is a trick. He wants me angry and he wants me to bend. He wants to know I haven't let Gisō take control of my life. I'm not some acquiescent little Fire Lady, but I'll humor him this."

Sokka's lips thinned but he walked off the field. Katara shifted her gaze outward. The entire tent was emptying and the ice benches around the arena were being filled quickly. Master Pakku emerged between the two vats at the opposite end of the playing field.

Her father came forward. "Katara, you just arrived."

"I'm fine."

He bowed and began to retreat. "Yes, Fire Lady."

Katara winced and turned her head…

A stinging water whip licked her cheek. The crowd gasped. She turned back, slowly.

"It's not so much a lesson as it is common sense." Master Pakku was already pelting toward her on a ramp of ice, tentacle arms extending.

Katara rooted herself and threw her hands up. Later, Master Pakku would commend her timing. A section of his ramp shot upward, throwing him far over her head and into one of her water vats. The crowd whooped.

Katara slid into pose and waited. A gigantic, swirling ball of water rose from the tub. Master Pakku floated in the middle. He dropped to the ground and created a wicked loop. "Someone has been studying the earthbenders; I applaud your prudence." He split the loop in half and brought his palms together in a mighty clap.

The water moved only a second slower. Katara ducked and summoned the water from her remaining tub. Discs of ice parchment-thin reft the twin whips apart. The end of one of the shorter tentacles slammed into the ground where it was promptly frozen, encasing Master Pakku's arm with it.

Cries from the crowd signified the second, careening at her face. Katara crossed her forearms and leaned into the attack, bringing up a wall of snow and ice in front of her. She was pushed back a few feet before she melted her wall, letting the offensive maneuver carry her counter. Crouching low, she spun, pulling her water and his until it was flying through the air. It crashed into Master Pakku, shattered the tentacle freezing him to the ground, and sent him rolling to the edges of the arena.

"I told you a long time ago," Katara shouted, skating manically along an ice slide. "You can't knock me down!" She leapt, bringing her water whip with her.

A tentacle laced around her ankle and shook her. Her water fell, and Katara dangled high above the ground. Master Pakku watched her flail like a fish on a line. "Bend child, and stop embarrassing yourself."

"AARGH!" Katara screwed her face up in vitriolic derision. Her arms went out, but Master Pakku avoided the ice easily.

"Don't tell me a life of fire has completely burned away your skills." The water snare gripped her tighter and began flinging her back and forth. She heard Sokka protesting loudly. "Nobody touch him," she screamed.

Master Pakku continued playing with her. Humiliation enflamed her face—a much more obvious pain than the physical discomfort of being waved around like a flag. Rage was quick to follow. She waited until he brought her close to the snow. Plunging her hand into the powder, Katara came flying back up with an ice boomerang forming in her grip. She threw the weapon and it severed her from Master Pakku's trap. She landed on her feet and caught the boomerang on its return.

Cheers rocked the stage, and Katara grinned at the vociferous people. To Master Pakku she spat, "I've been studying the firebenders, _Master_, and they fight with their fury."

Her last word was almost drowned by a roar of water surging over her head and toward her old Master. A whip in his hand was not enough defense against the wave as it smashed over him. Katara stood panting, triumph stirring in her gut.

But the master waterbender of the Northern Water Tribe was not finished. He sprang to his feet with agility rare in so old a man. And it was clear that he had been playing with Katara earlier. Volley after volley of ice spikes rained down upon her. Each snow shield she created was blown apart by spikes, and each became weaker the faster she was forced to move. He had her on the retreat across the field.

Katara couldn't hear the people anymore. They had gone quiet as they watch the vicious assault in the snow. She was sweating now; growing weary with each unerring spike.

_What if Gisō saw you now?_

Her eyes flew open as she strained to keep the latest shield up. _He'd be so disappointed. He thought you were a_ great _waterbender._

"Enough!"

A chunk of ice blasted through the ground at Master Pakku's feet, upending him into the snow. Spikes shot up, crisscrossing over his ankles, wrists, and at his neck, completely pinning him to the ground. He could not move.

Katara waded across the debris-strewn battleground and stopped only when she stood above him.

"Do you yield?" A water whip snaked from her fist.

Master Pakku wrinkled his nose, defiant for one second more. And then he smiled. "Yes, Master Katara. I yield."

She released him and he stood; only to drop into a bow of reverence, on his knees with arms extended and face against the snow. Warmth flushed Katara's cheeks as howls rose up and people began storming the field.

Her brother and a few other men hoisted her up while Lana and Cale babbled up at her, faces pale and eyes bright. Her father appeared shaken, but smiled at her, pride evident on his face. "You astonish me every time I see you bend, Katara. You are strong beyond my belief, and you prove it to me every day."

Katara slid from Sokka's shoulders and hugged Hakoda. "Thanks, Dad."

"Katara, you've just bested the best waterbender in the world, what are you going to do now?"

She looked at her overjoyed brother, at her impressed captain, at Suki with a sleeping Tikaani in her arms, and lastly, at the rising moon.

"I'm going to bed."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this one is a little later than usual. I'm trying to stay ahead of the game with my writing, and I was a bit behind my schedule. But here you all go. I sense you all will like this one.**

**Of course, thank you to Sarah, as always, for being a wonderful beta.**

Chapter 4

In her childhood room in her father's small but comfortable home, Katara dreamed of Gisō.

She dreamed of a new, strange land of constant heat; of exotic clothing made of foreign materials in every shade of red imaginable; of a wedding of royalty.

She walked to the ceremonial altar covered in Fire Nation emblems and ancient script she could not read. Her wedding clothes slid over her frame, each swish a breezy kiss. The warmth of the air added to her shy blush as she came to stand beside her husband-to-be—a man older than her in age and experience. The man who had been made Fire Lord at the age of 9 after the horrible assassination of his distant cousins…

She swallowed and he smiled and the dimple she had come to seek out in these past weeks deepened in his cheek. Her eyes stung faintly and her smile mirrored his. She was not angry on this day, but happier than she could have hoped. Her people were coming together, and she was forging vows with this sweet creature who still did not seem real.

His amber eyes held hers and their fingers laced together. She was unafraid. He stepped to her side and they knelt before the Fire Sages and Water Priests. They said the words that would bind them together forever.

Katara awoke, weeping.

* * *

Breakfast was a simpler, if not quieter, affair than the feast of last night. Only her family and Lana were in attendance. The latter had taken Sokka's old room beside Katara's so that she could aid Katara with her toiletries. Katara was glad for the nearness of the girl.

Her father sat with Tikaani on his knee, spooning mashed kelp and salt gravy into the boy's mouth. More seemed to be getting on his little sealskin onesie. Suki sat beside them, laughing at the mess.

Sokka had his plate piled high with seared whale blubber, arctic chicken eggs, and blackened clamfish. Katara's stomach grumbled. Lana chewed her lip before settling on some of the eggs.

"What were your plans for today?" Her father nodded to her as she helped herself to the fish.

Katara thought for a moment. "Is the market running today? Sokka said that it would here this week."

Sokka nodded and talked around his food. He was surprisingly good at it. "Mhmm. The market is up. There might be some straggling merchants still coming in, but all the big tents are there and selling." He swallowed. "They've been open for a few hours now, so it might be crowded."

"Oh, I don't mind. I would love to see it and talk to everyone. I wasn't able to last night."

"Well, you could have, but you had to go and fight Master Pakku."

"Sokka," Suki warned.

"It's okay, Suki." Katara glared at her brother. "I told you. I had to fight him."

Sokka sent his gaze heavenward. "Yeah, yeah."

"I could fight you, if that's what it'll take to shut you up."

Hakoda sighed in suffering, but he looked ready to laugh. "You two never stop. I'm surprised your letters aren't this antagonizing."

Katara and Sokka pursed their lips and side-eyed each other. The truth was that their letters were highly provoking and borderline cruel. They liked to use all the new insults their respective nations created. Sokka _had_ demanded to know the best Fire Nation jokes, so it wasn't really Katara's fault. She supposed he kept such inappropriateness a secret from their father. Katara was glad she wrote to him separately…she really didn't want him to know the phrase "blowing smoke" had an entirely different meaning in the Fire Nation.

Of course, those were the early stage letters. Katara's and Sokka's letters had matured greatly over the years since their separation. They even admitted how much they missed each other sometimes. Though, cheeky jibes still always served as the valedictions.

"Suki and I can take Katara to the market. We could give her the tour and guard her."

"I don't think heavy guard will be necessary…"

"I am staying with Tikaani, today, but I would love to join you tomorrow."

"Then we'll need some of your airship guard, Katara."

"I said I don't think…"

"Lana, you can come, too."

Lana blushed. "Thank you, Prince Sokka."

"Prince of what? Snowballs?"

Sokka glared. "I'm pretty much a prince."

"You two have fun. Lana and Cale will join you." Hakoda settled the matter. Katara and Sokka were still arguing about Sokka's self-appointed titles as they filed out the door.

Once out in the bracing arctic air, Katara found that Sokka had become, if at all possible, even more gregarious than he had been growing up. He certainly made a show of greeting everyone by name and inquiring as to their family, but Katara suspected her presence was much of the reason for this fluffing of feathers. She just wasn't sure who was meant to be more impressed: the people—who bowed low to her—or her. Sokka really seemed to know the Water Tribe like the back of his hand.

Katara, for her part, was as receiving as her brother. She remembered everyone's names well save for some new children and a few new members from the Northern Water Tribe. But she still felt a little negligent. She resolved to spend her time accruing knowledge about her old village.

Katara furrowed her brow, worried. Perhaps she had been too idle at the fire palace; she felt out of practice. There were serious problems to be acknowledged.

Which reminded her…

"Sokka, has anyone here suffered from bloody tears?"

Sokka looked down at her, shocked. She could feel Lana creep a little closer behind them.

"Blood tears? No, no one has cried blood."

Katara's tense shoulders sagged happily. "It's a strange affliction people in the Fire Nation have been battling. So far, no one has died and it isn't contagious. We just can't get it to go away, and we are clueless as to the source."

"Himitsu doesn't know what it might be?"

"No. I've tried healing session after healing session. We've tried medicines from the physicians. Even the Fire Sages have done work. It's so frustrating. And thank you for remembering Himitsu."

"How could I forget? You talk about her in all your letters. Even more than Gisō!"

He had meant it as a joke, but it was terribly true. He flinched at his chosen words, and Katara was about to wave it away. But he asked, "Why don't you write about him anymore?"

He had hushed his words. Lana had fallen back intuitively, and chatted with Cale. No one was around. Katara still had little wish to speak of it. Especially to her brother. He experienced the epitome of matrimonial bliss, and Katara really did not want her rocky marriage the subject of his harsh analytical deductions.

"There isn't much to say." Her voice brooked no argument. But Sokka had always been tone deaf.

"Katara," he stopped her. "You have to talk about it."

"I don't have to do anything." She side stepped around him. "Fire Lady, remember?"

"You can't hide behind a crown!"

"Watch me!"

She stomped off through the snow while Sokka cursed behind her. She heard her troop scuttle after her.

The smells of the market hit her before she could see it. Cuisine from all the nations were cooking as chefs prepared for the lunch time rush. Seal jerky, fire flakes, pork from the Earth Kingdom, and fruit stews from the Air Temples wafted on the cold air. And then the tents came into view.

Katara forgot her anger in a breath. People swarmed the site. Most of them were waterbending customers, but Katara spotted a few earthbenders and airbenders milling around as well. Giant fire pits created open air courtyards of sorts. Children played and roasted different kinds of snacks from around the world on sticks. Storytellers from the different nations gesticulated passionately while their musical accompaniments played according to the stories' tones.

Smoke settled around the canvassed tents, and the air was thick with shouts of prices, arguments, and laughter. Katara could hear blacksmiths working in their shops, cooks with their knives, and toymakers sampling their wares. The clash of cultures was overwhelming. Every kind of bender blended seamlessly with each other and nonbenders. The nonbenders in question had seemed to really find their niche. Katara stopped and watched as benders stared in utter bewilderment as two nonbending performers twirled and spun and flipped around a small stage. She watched nonbending artisans create works of art with paintbrushes. She smiled and felt the peace Gisō and she had fashioned with Aang's advisement. With that, she relaxed.

Sokka caught up with her while she admired a lady's hand woven scarves. "These are gorgeous," she told the woman. The woman, an obvious airbending monk, beamed.

"Thank you, Fire Lady. I would be honored if you chose one to keep for yourself. Though, you might shadow its beauty."

Katara laughed. "You flatter me, so! What is your name?"

"Monk Fu Hao, my Lady."

"Well, Monk Fu Hao, I would be equally honored to own such a creation." She fingered a particularly fine example of green lace. "But I insist on paying for it."

"I would be offended, Lady!"

"Nonsense. Such craftsmanship deserves its due."

It was a dance Katara was master of. Years of the same charity by complete strangers had trained her. It wasn't that she did not value the gesture. She had never been comfortable accepting such gifts from the people that kept the nations together. She had learned how to politely decline, though it usually entailed paying a sum far smaller than reasonable.

"Then I insist that you take it on a discount, Lady. Please."

Katara smiled and reached out to take the woman's hand in thanks. "Very well, Fu Hao."

Sokka sighed as the exchange was made. He had never understood Katara's need to pay for things people just wanted to give her. When they were younger, just after her marriage, he had thought his status as brother to the Fire Lady would merit him all the things he could want. Katara had squashed that dream, and he learned better. Now he just made dispirited noises.

"I thought monks were supposed to shun worldly materials."

Katara brought a hand to her head, and Lana stifled a giggle. Fu Hao, however, answered genially. "This is true, Lord Sokka. Our meditation and way of life teaches the value of spirituality over physical possessions and attachments to this world. Yet it also teaches us the value of good hard work. The things I make, I sell. The money I make goes to the Western Air Temple and its upkeep. Education for the children is a primary part of our livelihood."

Properly chastened, Sokka nodded and slid away. Katara laughed to herself and thanked Fu Hao once more, highly reminded of Aang. He hadn't been able to put much stock in worldly possessions or earthly attachments either. Katara had always wondered how things might have been different if he had been born a different type of bender, or not the Avatar at all.

She handed her packaged scarf to Lana and led the way. They found Sokka at a food stand. Typical. The merchant spotted her. "Lady Katara! My beautiful, lovely Lady of the West. Would you care to try some smoked ham?"

It did smell appealing. She nodded, trying not to show amusement at his ridiculous epithets. He handed the sample to Cale, who had stepped ahead to take it. "Shall I try this first, Lady?"

Katara rolled her eyes. Sokka was nodding. "Oh, if it will please the two of you, go ahead."

A few minutes later, and Cale was picture perfect. Katara tried the ham and nearly moaned. "This is wonderful!" she said, mouth full. The merchant beamed. "Would you like some to take home with you this evening, my Lady?"

Katara immediately ascertained the danger of carrying food with Sokka around. She shook her head. "Although, I should like very much if you prepared some of this dish at my farewell feast, sir."

The merchant beamed brighter. "It would be my unending pleasure to do so. I know that Master Sokka would love it."

Master Sokka nodded, face full of ham.

They continued threading their way through the streets created by the pavilions. Sokka was still snacking on various items he had purchased. Katara watched with a mortified expression on her face. "You know, I will never understand what compels people to give you a title."

Sokka smacked his lips. "Hey, I'm going to be Chief some day. May as well start accepting titles."

Cale snorted from his position beside Lana. Katara winked at him. "What do you all want to do, now? Lana, did you want to look at the dresses at that earthbender's stand? I saw you admiring them."

Lana shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, Lady. I couldn't possi…"

"BOOMERANGS!"

Sokka precipitately departed.

Lana sputtered at the disruption. Katara was shaking her head.

"Don't feel slighted, Lana. Sokka would yell over the Fire Lord on his coronation day. Are you sure you don't want to look at the dresses?"

Lana nodded rapidly. Katara hummed, looking around. Sokka was chatting animatedly with a Northern Water Tribesman about his stand of weapons while waving a boomerang. The man looked hilariously concerned.

Katara didn't feel like playing hero at present, however. She pulled her cloak around her and looked past the weaponry display. Something sparkling in the high sun caught her eye. Silently, she headed over.

The tent was rather smaller than some of the other ones they had visited. It also looked like it would be dark inside. Most of the others had been more open and welcoming. But it wasn't the tent that had drawn her attention.

Hanging from poles around the entrance to the shop were sun catchers. Katara had seen such items before; they were very popular on glaringly bright days in the Fire Nation. But these were beyond exquisite.

Geometric shapes of paper thin glass spun on finely woven chains of gold and silver. The glass came in a myriad of colors: ruby, emerald, violet, cobalt. Within the pieces were more shapes. Some were kaleidoscopic in form while others held elaborate little scenes. Animals and plants, fairytales and legends. Katara eyed a set depicting the achievements of the Fire Nation's own revered Painted Lady. In one she provided life to a forest, her little clear hands open over a collection of multicolored flowers while tiny blue raindrops dripped onto them. Each shape in the scene was outlined in veins of gold running through the glass. They all refracted onto the snow around them.

"They're so…" Lana blinked. "Alive."

Cale was even impressed by them. He bent over a set depicting a battle. It showed the war. Water Tribesmen and Fire Nation soldiers bled in the snow…

Katara swallowed. "I want to take a look inside."

Cale volunteered to wait outside and guard the tent. Lana followed Katara into the shadowy space.

It turned out that there was more lighting than she had originally anticipated. Openings in the ceiling of the tent created veritable spotlights for even more glasswork. Cleverly and safely placed torches lit up an area where jewelry was displayed. Katara couldn't choose where to look first. The color almost made her eyes water.

She decided to move to the center where the jewelry was held since there were already a few customers looking at the glass figurines. Lana trailed slowly after her, pretending to keep a respectful distance while she really browsed.

Katara felt like she was five years old again and Gran-Gran was letting her pick a sweet. The colorful little gems even resembled some of the more expensive candies the villagers had created. Rings sat on standing displays so they might be viewed without being touched. Beautifully cut stones sat in delicate settings. Even the metal bands of the rings were breathtaking; some of the metal was smooth while other bands looked charred and laced with different alloys.

This time Katara's eyes did water.

Her eyes moved to a hanging display where earrings of all shapes and sizes hung. Some were made of stones and minerals, others of jewels. A few were like the mobiles outside and made of glass. Her eyes landed on a single, dangling pair, and she could look no farther.

They were round, almost the size of a large coin. The main material—unknown to her—was jet black. The inset glass was a molten red and took on the appearance of roiling lava. Half circles rimmed in gold edged the outside of the red, and a center circle similarly rimmed held even more of the black part. The earrings were so thin, the light shined through them. Her mouth opened in a little "oh".

"Smitten, Lady?" A rasping voice inquired.

Katara tore her eyes away from the earrings and up at the owner of the odd voice. She had not expected what she saw now.

A young man stood behind the counter, just enough in the shadow so that she hadn't noticed him when she approached. She straightened and gave him a pithy once over. He was a firebender, that was for sure. She could see it in his posture, which was languid but alert. He appeared bored and had a distinctly recalcitrant air. He _was_ leaning rather insolently against the tent's central beam.

An eyebrow arched over a golden eye as she inspected him. His other was—Katara averted her eyes quickly—nonexistent. A brutal scar covered a good portion of the right side of his face. She didn't see his ear, covered as it was by his shaggy black hair, but she had a dreadful feeling it was as mauled as his eye.

The man smirked after her obvious distaste. He stood straight and stepped up to the counter. Katara remained where she was and watched as he unhooked the earrings she had been admiring. He passed them to her.

She took them in gentle fingers, holding the edges so she wouldn't leave fingerprints on the faces. "Did you make them?" she asked, forgetting her awkwardness in her fascination.

The proprietor—for he was clearly the only person in the shop save the customers—watched her and nodded. "Everything here is mine."

He sounded like he had been around too much smoke, which, given his admittance as a glasswork artist, he probably was. His voice was quiet and the rasp was permanent. Katara found herself clearing her throat.

"The mobiles outside, as well?"

He nodded.

"I've never seen anything like your work." Her eyes widened as if to prove her statement.

The man smirked again like the information wasn't new to him. She steeled herself, aggravated with his arrogance. She led first. "How much are these?"

The man's gaze flickered down to the earrings in her hands, and the simple movement left her feeling bare. She shifted her weight and squared her shoulders. He looked back up, and she tried to keep her eyes on his good one. He licked his lips. "Fifty gold pieces."

Katara froze. The air seemed to grow colder. _Fifty gold pieces?_ Did she hear that right? She felt Lana creep to her side, but she kept her eyes on the artisan. Fifty? And then her face began to burn. Embarrassment slammed into her like one of Sokka's rogue boomerangs. How dare she expect free earrings? Had she become so inured in expecting everyone to just give her things? Had she become like her brother?

She blinked. He blinked. Fifty was not unreasonable. The earrings were incomparable. No one would bat an eyelash at her spending that much. And now she felt she ought to because she was making a fool of herself in front of this man with the sunfire eyes…

"Fifty gold pieces. Very well." She traded her purse for the earrings with Lana, who seemed to be shivering, and counted out the money. She scooped the amount into his hands and watched him put them in his cash drawer. He locked it up and turned back to her, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Aren't you going to count it?" she asked confusedly.

"I just watched you count it."

"Oh, right."

Lana handed the earrings back, and cleared her throat, edging toward the door. Katara ignored her and glared at the man.

He stopped grinning and glared back. "Did you want those wrapped?" He pointed at the earrings.

Katara looked down at them in her hand. "I suppose so. Yes." She handed them over. His hands were warm. Hers were not.

She watched him wrap the little earrings with so soft a grace from such calloused hands. He used red cloth and a black ribbon. After it was tied, he picked up a stick of some sort and blew on it. Katara's eyes grew wide again as she witnessed a small puff of flame melt the end of the stick just enough so he could press it onto the cloth. It was wax. The other end of the stick provided to be a seal. He pushed the package toward her when he was done. The seal was a dragon, the wax was blue.

"Will that be everything, _Lady_?"

"I don't like your tone," Katara bristled, "in fact, I—"

Lana cleared her throat again and gave Katara a look. Katara sighed. "What is your name, _sir_?"

The artisan narrowed his eyes, and the bad one almost disappeared in a cat-like slit. Katara wondered if the effort of such rancor hurt. She kind of hoped so. He relaxed a little, though, before muttering, "Zuko."

"Zuko," she repeated. It tickled her tongue. She crinkled her nose. She felt like she was going to sneeze. Looking around one last time, she decided something. "I might come back tomorrow."

Zuko's sulky lips brimmed into a genuine smile, and Katara's heart fluttered. "I will be glad to see you, my Lady." Katara inclined her head and Zuko gave the Fire Nation salute.

As she left with Lana hot on her heels, she heard him calling, "You'll make me rich!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Chapter 5! More Zuko more Katara more classic Zutara arguing! I'd like to take the time to thank everyone who has read, favorited, and followed this story; and a special thanks to my readers who review and let me know how I'm doing and what they like! Thank you, everyone!**

**And, of course, thanks to my lovely friend, Sarah, for beta reading :)**

Chapter 5

The sun had reached its apex and was starting to sink when Katara exited the tent with Lana. They both put hands up to shield their blinking eyes. Cale moved up behind them. "Find anything you liked, my Lady?"

Lana dusted of her skirts and studied the mobiles once more. Katara looked at Cale. "Yes, I found earrings. The man in there has made all of these things."

Cale made a low whistle. The two customers who had still been in the shop left now, and headed up the main path. Cale looked after them in annoyance. "They didn't notice you, Lady."

"It's fine. What time do you suppose the market closes?"

Her soldier thought for a moment. "Well, I'm sure the food carts stay open for a while into the night, especially since there are no big feasts in the village tonight. I wouldn't think the stores stay open very late; the shopkeepers would want to settle down for dinner."

Katara nodded. "That's true. Well, let's go find Sokka. I'm ready to go home."

Lana sighed in relief. "Are you okay, Lana?" Cale walked close by her side.

The maid shot a glance at Katara and nodded. "Oh…yes. It was just a little strange—in there."

Cale immediately became more alert. "Strange? How so?" His alarmed face irritated Katara.

"Yes, how was it strange, Lana?"

Her maid flinched. "I mean—nothing happened! I just thought the owner a little—odd."

"He frightened you." Katara kept an eye out for Sokka while they walked. Lana hesitated before tilting her head in agreement.

"What did he do?" Cale was fingering his sword. Katara blanched.

"Nothing. He sold me earrings. He was a little rude and full of himself, but otherwise…"

Katara studied Lana for a moment and narrowed her eyes. "Lana, is this about his scar?"

Lana didn't have to answer. A visible shudder had gone through the girl. Katara snorted and sped up her gait. "I understand that it was shocking, Lana. But I never would have expected you to judge someone based on something they can't help."

Lana tried to protest but Katara shunned her. "Let's find Sokka."

They found Sokka at a food stand. Katara paid for his meal, while he complained noisily, and thanked the purveyor. She grabbed Sokka's arm. "I want to go home."

"Wow, what's burned your fire dumplings?" he asked around a mouth full of fire dumplings.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. Plus, I want to see Suki and Tikaani."

Sokka looked between Katara, Lana, and Cale. He saw that Lana was staring at the ground and twisting her hands. Cale looked anxious and kept patting Lana's arm. He stroked his chin as though he had a beard. Katara groaned.

"I know what happened." A finger went into the air.

"Sokka, not now. Can we _please_ go home?"

He ignored Katara and waltzed up to Lana and bent until he could look her in the eye. Cale grumbled. Lana's eyes widened. Sokka pointed an accusing finger at Katara behind him. "She stole something, didn't she?"

Silence met the ridiculous allegation. Lana gasped. "No, Prince Sokka, she didn't steal a thing! Why would you accuse your sister—the _Fire Lady_—of such treachery?"

Katara huffed. "Lana, stop calling him Prince Sokka. He's as much a prince as that snow cow over there." She gestured to a round little animal munching on some hay. "Well…"

Sokka blustered. "Why else would you all be acting this way? Katara wants to get home quickly, Lana looks like she's about to panic, and Cale is all disapproving and broody." His face fell into a caricature of Cale's frown. He went on, "And if I remember correctly, you have always had a case of the sticky fingers."

Katara's face flamed and she scoffed. "How dare you! I am not going into this with you right now." She spun on her heel and started trudging through the snow.

"Another characteristic of a thief: avoiding confession."

A giant heap of snow flew back and thumped him.

* * *

Katara giggled as Tikaani squirmed and burbled from where he lay between her and Suki. Suki was shaking a ring of bells over his head. The fire was going, Hakoda was off at a meeting, and Sokka was pouting in his chair. Cale had retired to the crew's tents and Lana had been hiding in her room since dinner was finished. Katara knew she'd have to apologize to her eventually.

Tikaani started hiccupping and both women chuckled. "I think it's almost time for bed, mister." Suki scooped the baby up and began patting his back. She looked at Sokka. "Could you take him home? I haven't been able to talk to Katara much for the past two days."

"You'll get to talk to her tomorrow. Kari is babysitting him." All the same, Sokka was up and reaching out for his son. "Come on, bucko. Clearly we're not wanted."

Once the pair of whining men had disappeared, Suki turned to Katara. "Now, what's going on?"

Katara dissembled before Suki. She told her about the market, about the glass-artist's tent. She voiced her disappointment in Lana and her incredulity at Sokka's charges. "I am no thief," she griped. "At least…not nowadays."

Suki burst into laughter, and after a moment, Katara joined her. "Your brother always tells the story about how you'd steal from your grandmother's snack baskets. And then how you snatched a waterbending scroll to learn better forms. I always thought he was fibbing!"

"No, I stole it. Right from Master Pakku's things." Suki gaped. "What? Aang was beating me."

"Remind me to never get competitive with you, Katara. So, can I see these infamous earrings?"

Katara led Suki to her room and retrieved the little red package from her table. She carefully split the wax and undid the wrappings.

"Oh, wow," Suki whispered. "These are incredible, Katara." She reached out and took one. "You say he made all his things himself?"

Katara nodded. "You should have seen the sun catchers."

"We will have to go, tomorrow." Suki handed the earring back over. "Do you know what it's made of?"

"No; I didn't think to ask."

"Well, now we most definitely have to go back." She smiled, "Don't let Tikaani near those while you're wearing them."

"He really is a beautiful baby, Suki," Katara said.

"Thank you." Suki watched her sister-in-law sadly. "Have you and Gisō…?"

Katara stood and hugged herself. "No, we haven't."

"Doesn't he even want to try?"

Katara stood, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes moved to Suki's reflection.

"You? Oh, Katara." Suki jumped to her feet and hugged her sister. "You haven't been able to conceive?"

"It's not that…I don't think that's the issue." She tried to keep it together, she really did. But talking to Suki about something so intimate was different than trying to with Sokka. "I'm not sure I want a child. His child…" She broke down in Suki's arms.

"Shh, oh Katara."

"I really wanted a baby. I wanted one for years. I wanted to give Gisō a baby boy or girl; an heir to the throne. And we tried, you know we did. Fortune just wasn't with us. We started getting augmentative, so we stopped approaching bed with children as a must have result. We just focused on one another and we were so happy…I was so in love with him."

Suki stroked Katara's hair and let her continue. "And then we started trying again. Later. And things disintegrated once more. I'm so frightened, Suki. I'm constantly telling myself to keep trying, to go to him, to love him. And sometimes he'll smile and I'll feel that rush I felt four years ago and I'll see the shadow of happiness. But then I feel nothing. And I am so scared that it will never come back. That I'll have to hold this charade for the rest of my life because a rift between us might very well mean a rift between our people." Katara stopped talking and put her face in her hands and cried.

Suki led her to the bed and helped her into it. She sat down next to her. "Have you talked to him?"

Katara shook her head and wiped her tears. "I'm so afraid to break his heart. He still loves me like he used to. At least, it seems that way. He says he needs me, but I'm not too sure of that anymore. He barely wanted to talk to me about Aang before I left."

Suki put out her hands. "Well, that right there is evidence he still loves you. He's still jealous of Aang."

"Still?"

"Oh, sure! My goodness, Katara, it was so obvious back when he was courting you. He'd come to the Northern Water Tribe to see you, and he'd get so stony-faced and silent whenever Aang was around. And we could all tell he didn't really like Aang being the one to preside over the arrangements."

"He was really that jealous of Aang? But we're just friends!"

"I know that, and Aang knows that. But how do you suppose your fiancé would have felt as a genuine outsider looking in on our little family? He knew that marrying you meant accepting us, and he did. I'm surprised at how much he gets along with Sokka, to be frank. But Aang must have been perceived as a possible threat. He wouldn't know you didn't like him like that. And now he's probably feeling those old pangs because you got excited about Aang."

"But I only meant that I had missed him as a friend!"

"Yes, but jealousy doesn't let people think in terms like that. Every little innocent thing appears marred with duplicity in the eyes of the jealous."

Katara had stopped crying. She was starting to feel hopeful. "So…he was just upset over Aang. But Suki, he seems so cold and distant so often. Aang can't be the only source of his mood."

"He probably senses your lack of passion. I know that Sokka can tell when I'm feeling a little distant, even if I'm not actually angry at him." Suki grabbed Katara's hand. "Look, I'm not saying that your feelings aren't credible. I can't imagine what you must be going through, unsure of how you feel about your husband. But, if you think there is any possibility of replenishing your marriage, you'll fight for it, Katara. You always fight for what you believe in."

* * *

Katara did not dream of anything and awoke feeling as though an air bison had been lifted from her chest.

Before going to breakfast, she peeked in on Lana. The girl immediately began apologizing for her behavior and rudeness from yesterday, but Katara cut her off. She told Lana that all was well and to take the day off.

Breakfast today was subdued. Sokka and Suki were already there. Katara's father greeted her from his place at the head of the table. Katara was glad for the simplicity. There was no pageantry at the Chief's table because breakfast was not supposed to be complicated and stiff. You were just supposed to eat and talk.

Katara greeted everyone in return and acknowledged Sokka's inquiring expression with a grin. All was forgiven between them in the silent code of conduct the siblings had perfected in the last twenty years. They were much too excited to be together to harbor grudges during so short a visit.

Soon it was understood that Katara and Suki would be going to the market once more with only each other for company. Hakoda expressed only a small bit of worry over this, but acceded that there were more people willing to protect Katara's well being in the South Pole than there were fools willing to do something stupid. The girls headed out, and Sokka and their father proceeded to prepare for a day of hunting. Katara intercepted Cale on his approach and sent him off with the other men.

The market was not thrumming with activity as it was still early. A few vendors tried to entice the girls to their food stands, but did so with yawns on their faces and shallow politeness in their pleas. No one was expecting customers this early.

Which was why, when Katara seemed to be bee-lining toward a certain tent, Suki stopped her. "I don't think that everyone is up and selling yet, Katara."

Katara looked up at the sun. It wasn't nearly high enough for the sun catchers to be displayed to Zuko's advantage. Maybe he wouldn't even bother opening until later. "You're probably right. We might as well check, though, since barely anyone is open yet."

Checking proved to be fruitful. The sun catchers were out, and Katara highly doubted someone of Zuko's arrogance and high price range would have left them out all night. Katara noted that the pieces had changed, though. The Painted Lady set was gone, replaced by daily life scenes from around the world. New geometric ones were out, too.

Suki was an excellent observer. She exclaimed joyfully over the works, especially enthralled by a thick set of rectangular glass depicting Avatar Kyoshi pacifying Chin the Conqueror. In the sparkling snow and light breeze, the little evil man looked like he actually plummeted from the cliff-face.

The pair moved slowly through the rows of art. Here, the airbenders flew on their gliders in thin circlets of glass run through with a milky haze. There, firebenders threw bursts of red and orange through blackened glass triangles. Waterbenders glittered in frosty blue tear drop shaped prisms.

"How is this possible?" Suki murmured. Katara shook her head.

Inside, they were the only customers. Katara briefly glanced around for Zuko, refusing to be surprised by him a second time. He wasn't to be found. "There was smoke coming from behind the tent. He's probably working on something." Suki nodded, eyes darting from one side of the tent to the other. Katara pointed to the jewelry. "That's all I looked at yesterday." Her friend was already heading over.

Katara turned her attention to the figurines.

Animals, plants, people, and abstract shapes twinkled in the torchlight. She saw past Avatars with detail so fine and modeling so delicate, that she was afraid a breath might knock them over. Larger, bulkier pieces were present, as well. Moose-lions and polar bear-dogs that looked like they were several bags of coins heavy roared and ran freely or on bases. Every feasible taste had been catered to in color, size, and style.

Carefully, she reached out and picked up a sturdier looking abstract piece. The frothy white porcelain streaked in blue reminded her of the ocean. She turned it over in her hands, following the veins of cerulean with a fingertip. On the bottom, a stylized character was etched. Zuko.

Katara placed the piece back on its shelf. Her feet carried her farther down the side of the room until her eyes stopped them. An uncanny reproduction of a panda lily lay on a cushion of deep gray. A slender green stem split into wing-like leaves that curled into points. The petals were a mix of white porcelain and a black material that looked a lot like Katara's earrings. The center was a ball of green with two little stems of gold filigree sprouting forth.

_"For thee I love, to thee I wish to wed."_

_A panda lily in his hand and a promise in his eyes._

_"I went to the highest volcano in the Earth Kingdom, and this is what I found. The soil and the heat are the qualities that make this the rarest flower in the four nations, yet even a panda lily cannot live without rain._

_"I can provide the warmth for our people to prosper, if you might grant the water. Together, we can create a foundation of unrivaled peace._

_"Of thee I ask, I beg, I plead. To thee I swear a union between our people, and between our hearts. Marry me, Katara."_

Tears streamed down Katara's cheeks as she touched the fragile petals of the glass lily. The real lily had withered within days.

She pulled her hand back and hastily brushed her tears away. When she turned, Zuko was there.

"What are you doing here?" she asked waspishly, averting her face so he wouldn't see.

She could hear the elevated eyebrow in his answer. "I work here."

Despite herself, Katara laughed. Zuko broke into a reluctant grin. "I see that you make good on your promises; welcome back, Fire Lady." He saluted.

"I hardly promised anything."

"Perhaps not in so many words."

Katara crossed her arms. "I'm looking for something for a friend."

"Of course."

"But I'm not sure what to get."

"No."

"So I'll need some advice."

He studied her for a moment. "Surely you know your friend better than I?"

Katara rolled her eyes. "That goes without saying. I meant only that you direct me to the simpler items in your store. She's a gentle, practical person who wouldn't want me spending a fortune on her."

Zuko snorted and crossed his own arms. "Obviously; I should have derived all that from your emotional episode just now. I take it panda lilies are out of the question?"

Hot and branding, her temper snarled forth. "Excuse me? How dare you? Don't you realize what the cost is of insulting a member of royalty?" She jabbed a finger in his chest.

He wrinkled his nose as though her attitude smelled bad. Suki, disturbed by Katara's growing volume, had come over. "Is something going on here, Katara?" She watched Zuko closely.

Katara went rigid. "No, Suki, don't worry about it." Suki nodded and retraced her steps back to the displays she had been admiring.

Zuko waited until she was out of earshot. "I'm sure the consequences for mocking you vary depending on your mood. But I don't see your guard, and you just sent your only possible witness away."

Katara fumed. "I could bend you through the wall."

"There's not much water."

Katara reached forward. To his credit, Zuko didn't even flinch. She pulled a drop of sweat from his brow and bent it into a tiny spike, spinning it until reached a wicked speed. "I don't need much water."

Zuko glared at the tiny vicious bead. "Is your friend the timid little maid whose scared witless of me?"

Katara grimaced and shook her head. She flicked the bead harmlessly to the floor. "No."

"You didn't bring her with you, today."

"I told her to stay home."

Zuko pondered this for a moment before nodding. "Come on, I'll show you the birds." He beckoned her to follow him toward the center of the store and near the very back. Katara glanced behind at Suki and motioned that everything was fine.

"Tell me more about your friend," he requested after they reached a long table full of glass birds.

"She can't talk."

Zuko shot her a look. "Blunt, are you?"

"Well, it's true. She took a vow of silence when she was my age or so. She's a nurse of sorts in the palace infirmary."

Zuko was nodding and running his eyes over the various figures before him. "So she's older? Anything else?"

"Yes, she's about twice our age, I guess. She really would not want me spending a copper piece on her, but she means a lot to me, and I want to give her something nice. She listens to my problems, and even though she can't return conversation, I feel understood and validated when I talk to her."

Katara looked closely at the avian figures, too. Zuko was muttering under his breath as he kept searching.

"She's like a mother to me."

Zuko glanced at Katara. "You lost your mother?" She nodded. "I'm sorry."

She grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She had forgotten how hawk-like his eyes were. The silence between them seemed to be waiting, but he did not fill it. Instead, he turned back to his collection.

Katara took the time to study his profile. By sheer accident, or by his design, she had ended up on his right, so she could not see his scar. She wondered what had caused it, as only the naturally inquisitive were wont to do. She didn't dare ask, however.

She started when, making a possible discovery, Zuko grunted. "What about a turtleduck?"

Katara followed his gesturing hand. The little figure was roughly the size of a bar of soap. The head and body were a soft brown glass with black stone eyes. The shell was actual green tortoiseshell incorporated into the work. The creature appeared as though swimming.

Earthy colors, a sweet disposition, and a passive action all characterized Himitsu well. Katara felt excitement flaring in her belly. "It's perfect!" She reached over and cupped the little bird in her palms, half expecting it to quack at her. She turned it over and saw Zuko's mark. She looked up with lively eyes at the artist. "How much?"

Zuko dropped his eyes to the turtleduck. "Take it, Lady." He walked back to the counter where his money box was stored. She followed, frowning.

"Now surely it's worth some amount of gold."

Suki joined them at the counter.

"I told you it's free," Zuko rasped quietly.

"But you made me pay full price for my earrings!"

Zuko snapped his wandering eyes back to her. "The turtleduck isn't for you, is it?"

Katara stuttered. "You are one of the most…"

Zuko stood and put his palms on the counter. Suki stepped closer to Katara, who clutched the turtleduck to her chest. "Oh, I'm certain I could guess what you think I am, Lady Katara, but your silly prejudices do very little to arouse my consideration."

The three stood, glaring at each other in cold silence. If any other customers had come in, they would have left quickly after that outburst. The seconds ticked by.

"I think we should leave, Suki." She looked at her sister-in-law. "The family may be getting ready for tea."

Suki was in the process of agreeing when a change came over Zuko. Katara watched as he supposedly fought an inner battle. And then he sighed, and his posture shifted. "I apologize for my rudeness. Could I interest you ladies in staying for tea?"

* * *

The tea was wanting.

It was an instance where she commended the preparer for his efforts. She wondered if he could tell she was simply being nice. Sokka had never been able to when she fibbed about his skills with meal preparation.

She thought maybe he could, but Zuko either didn't care what she thought of his 'hot-leaf juice' or he was well versed in pretending to accept false appreciation. Suki was keeping him busy enough with questions about his artwork that Katara didn't dwell too long.

"How long have you been creating these things?"

Zuko served the women small sandwiches to go with the tea. "Nearly my entire life. I'm mostly self-taught, although masters along the way taught me a thing or two."

Katara swallowed her mouthful. "Along the way?"

Zuko smirked at her and nodded. "My uncle and I travelled for much of my youth. I picked up what I could from the merchants and artists we met along the way."

"So you lived with your uncle? Did you enjoy that?"

Katara applauded Suki's tact. Zuko gave her an appraising look, clearly impressed as well. "I did. I didn't know my parents. They died in an accident in the mountains when I was very young."

He sat down at his seat and placed his hands on his teacup. "My Uncle Iroh brought me up and taught me all about my firebending."

Something tickled at the back of Katara's mind.

"He taught me how to control it and how to defend myself. I used my skills for this."

They each looked around the shop. "It's a beautiful way to use your gifts," Suki smiled sweetly. Zuko cleared his throat.

"My uncle passed away a few months ago. I've been continuing my art and travelling. It's a decent living when you know who to sell to." He winked at Katara and she frowned.

"Speaking of selling to Katara," Suki laughed. "What were those earrings made out of?"

Katara leaned forward as Zuko took a drink of his tea.

"Obsidian. It's a naturally occurring volcanic glass. It's the only material that I don't make myself, I simply take it, when I'm lucky enough to find it, and shape it. It's almost always solid black, though some impurities can occur. I was able to bring out the red in your earrings because there was iron in it.

Katara nodded, a little familiar with obsidian. It was common enough in the Fire Nation, considering the small volcanoes that were active in the region.

Zuko went on. "I would just be cautious when handling them. Obsidian is highly brittle and can flake easily. The resulting edges are thinner than parchment and sharp. Scalpel sharp."

Katara looked aghast and Zuko rushed to assure her. "I dull the edges of all the projects I work on using obsidian. Unless you're going to be using the earrings as throwing discs, they'll be fine."

Zuko took a deep breath. "Obsidian is one of the most beautiful things in nature. It's born of such violence, but…" He looked around the store.

"Is it what the panda lily is made of?" Katara asked softly.

"Yes. I used a very strong adhesive medium to bind it to the porcelain. It appears seamless." Zuko was looking at Katara with something like sheepish regret, but she did not notice. All three went silent.

"So how long are you staying here, Lady?"

Katara jumped on the new topic. "Until a day or two after the full moon. I have yet to confer with Captain Long, the commander of the airship."

"It should be nice, being near the ocean on the full moon."

Katara smiled at Zuko. "Yes, it's one of the main reasons I chose this week to visit. I usually strive for full moons. I take a night to myself at the beach."

"Her bending is incredible," Suki added. "And to see it at its strongest…"

"Suki, please," Katara mumbled.

"I've seen your bending; she's right."

Zuko may as well have just bent air by the way the two women stared at him. He darted an anxious eye between them. "I saw her fight Master Pakku at the feast."

"You were at the feast?"

"Well, not exactly. I was just arriving with my caravan, and the arena seats were filling. I saw you at one end and really couldn't resist."

Katara felt a syrupy sensation pooling in her stomach. For the first time in a while she hoped her performance was beyond compare.

"You were pretty good."

Suki almost dropped her dish. Katara's eyes narrowed. "Pretty good?"

Zuko realized he hit a nerve and pounced on it with all the purpose of a tiger-hare snatching lunch. "Master Pakku let you win."

"_WHAT?"_

"Katara…" Suki groaned and put her head in her hands. Tea sloshed onto the small table they were all sitting at.

Zuko remained unperturbed. "He yielded, but only because to defeat the Fire Lady and Chief's daughter at her homecoming in front of her family and subjects would be considered ill-bred." He sipped his tea.

Katara could feel her mouth opening and closing, but nothing was issuing forth. She was seeing red. This—this—this absolute _ass_ was telling her she virtually lost one of the greatest fights of her life. How in the name of Roku would he even know the rules and intricacies of a waterbending match? She had had Master Pakku pinned down. He couldn't move…he _couldn't…_

A funny thing like doubt snaked into her conscious.

The tea raced into the air and began spinning fast. If someone were to touch the whip, it'd slice their finger off. Zuko observed the hostility with equal danger in his eyes. His scar shone eerily in the torchlight. Suki tried to soothe Katara.

The only thing keeping the Fire Lady from lashing out at the pompous trader was the glinting of his artwork. She couldn't bear the idea of breaking even a single glass bulb. The tea dropped to the table with a smack.

"Suki, it's time to go home."

Suki thanked Zuko for his time and hospitality. He gave her a tight nod, refusing to take his eyes off the threat.

Katara gathered up the wrapped turtleduck, and the women left. The torches, which had flared during the confrontation, simmered to their previous size with Zuko's exhale.

* * *

On the third day, Katara did not go to the market.

It was a disappointingly dull day.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So many follows and new readers! Thanks, everyone :) Please enjoy the new installment.**

**Thank you, Sarah, for editing.**

Chapter 6

On the fourth day, Katara accompanied her father and Captain Long to the docks. Captain Long was keeping a tight hold on his excitement at inspecting the pride of Hakoda's fleet, but Katara could sense the youthful sailor inside urging to break free. She smiled to herself, a growing affection for her Captain warming her.

When they reached the _Katara_—aptly named, the ship's namesake thought—Hakoda bowed the Captain on board. Katara, the Fire Lady and waterbender, stayed on shore with the promise of remaining close. Bato waved at her from the prow of a neighboring ship, and several other Tribesmen greeted her enthusiastically as well.

As she walked along the narrow, snowy beach, Katara could feel the nearing full moon. Her blood thrummed with strength she was silently gathering. In two days, the ocean would be hers.

Ahead, smaller boats were anchored, and people milled around. The supply boats—for men and women were unloading them—were from the other nations. She was about to turn back so as not to become a hindrance, when she caught sight of Zuko's familiar form. He looked to be gathering supplies from one of the boats—a pile of heavy crates already forming near his borrowed camel.

It was the first time Katara had seen him outside the smoky ambience of his tent. Here, against the bare snow and gray sea, where there were no works of art to dazzle her eyes, Zuko appeared, in Katara's opinion, as just another person. A person seemingly on fire, but a person nonetheless.

He favored red. Or at least, he did today. Everything in his low-lit tent had given off a deep red hue unless it was a brightly colored jewel, but now his fashion preference and nationality were clear. His shirt was red, trimmed in burgundy and gold. He wore a long, sleeveless vest over it, burgundy as well, also lined in gold material and knotted at his stomach in the same shade. She was briefly confused by his lack of warmer apparel, but then remembered that firebenders were born lucky with naturally higher temperatures. That and he was working pretty hard.

His movements were those of a firebender at relative leisure, fluid and quick; but Katara was intrigued to detect a sort of militaristic rigidity in his posture. His back was straight and his gait determined. He strode back and forth between the dock and his belongings rather pompously. Katara was reminded of Sokka in his more vulnerable days; when strutting meant the transition between boyish uncertainty and manly self-assurance.

Zuko's frame was also admirable in the daylight. His shoulders were nicely square, broad where his hips were narrow. When he stooped to lift another crate from the small supply boat without aid, Katara could see they were also very strong shoulders. The man was sturdy for such a lean person.

She watched him finish with the crates and settle back against them. Her nails dug into her palms as she recognized the pose of unaffected indolence from her first encounter with the wretch. And then Katara shook her head because she really shouldn't be this angry over someone leaning against boxes.

Zuko, who had supposedly yet to notice her approach, yawned. His scarred side was to her, and Katara once again felt a stirring of morbid curiosity. He reached back, long arm arching so that she saw the twist of his back, and picked up a water skein. He took a drink, and his collar slipped down to reveal a shapely neck and throat. He then promptly dumped the last of the water over his hair.

"You'll catch your death doing that," Katara swiftly reprimanded. She felt shocked as he looked at her with barely concealed disdain. Belatedly, Katara noticed the steam rising in light puffs from his clothes. Firebender…_right_.

"Is it the title of Fire Lady that makes you think you know everything, or have you always been an uptight stick in the mud?"

Luckily for Zuko, the only other person within hearing range was a cabbage peddler who grabbed his cart possessively and high-tailed it out of danger.

"Excuse me?" Katara placed her hands on her hips. "Haven't you something better to do than criticize me?"

The jerk muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Hypocrite," before turning his back on her.

Katara had always seen herself as a compassionate and honorable person. She had learned her manners at a young age, and had developed a personality so fueled by strict attention to following the rules, that one would have called her precocious. However, this obsession toward rules and regularity had been more so for other people, and Katara's affinity for teaching etiquette to others had always been well-meaning.

The water whip that whacked the back of Zuko's head had not been.

She did not regret it, she did not regret it, she did _not_ regret it. Not even when his hand went to the back of his head in disbelief. Not even when he turned around, venom in his eyes.

"Not even _you_ could be so stupid," he said grimly, as though _he_ lamented her action.

No, Katara regretted it when Zuko slid into a very convincing pose of a firebender who had fought his fair share of battles. There was no whimsical creativity in his being, now; this man was supple destruction.

Yet eons of evolutionary survival instinct did not stop Katara from entering a defensive pose. Perhaps later she could chalk that mistake up as a personal failing.

"You wouldn't dare." Maybe she had some sense left, after all.

Zuko attacked first. A slice of flame shot deliberately past her body. She could see the shimmers of the heat waves as it flew by, melting the snow in its biting wake. Her eyes snapped back to her assailant, water flowing just a tad too slowly. The next pulse of fire steamed it right from the air.

Zuko was livid and exact. Each flame that roared by her face or over her head was designed with one goal in mind: to terrorize her.

Or so Katara rationalized with herself, before a charging arc of fire was barely blocked by her shoddy ice wall.

"Are you for real?"

Another burst of fire met her disbelieving demand. It roared by, the heat hurting her face a little as it went. A crowd of people was slowly gathering, and Katara knew that it would be only minutes before the entirety of her personal guard and family were converging on the duel. Zuko must have known it, too. One simply did not attack the Fire Lady without expecting harsh interference on her behalf. But he was not letting up, and Katara was going a little mad over it. His next attack was a soaring kick. She blocked with the snow still at her feet, arms crossed and head bent. When she looked back up, he was right in her space.

The closeness startled her, but Katara rallied and straightened to hold his glare. He was panting in his rage. He really hadn't used enough energy to be breathless from exhaustion. Flames hovered around his fists, and heat throbbed off him in waves. Katara had had it.

"Surely even _you_ aren't dense enough to play with fire so near the ocean?"

A heavy wall of water bowled him over across the shore, into a drift of snow. The crowd cheered riotously.

"What is going on here?"

Her father's booming voice had never failed to send a flush of guilt through Katara. Even now, when the whole ordeal wasn't—entirely—her fault, she still felt as though she were about to be chastised. But Hakoda strode right by her, murderous intent fixed on the hill of snow Zuko was struggling to escape from. Bato, Captain Long, and a good number of her guards surrounded her. Indignity flared in her veins.

"Dad, it's alright."

"Alright?" Bato sounded as lethal as her father had. Zuko kept his eyes fixed on Hakoda's feet, but Katara could tell he was glaring.

"Yes, I am absolutely certain that if you harm this man, you'll do so out of ignorance and regret it."

Zuko flashed her a look that said, "You are crazy", but Katara gave a slight shake of her head. Hakoda looked back and forth between the two, obviously unpleased with her defense. He wasn't one to pass judgment without his daughter's council, however.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Katara hesitated, racing for plausible reason a common merchant might have for brutally attacking the Fire Lady. Katara knew that admitting that she started it wouldn't work, either. And then a thought occurred to her.

She molded her face into one she had seen Gisō use countless times on insubordinate underlings. It was a face she hoped she could mimic well enough for this to work. Otherwise, Zuko was looking at hard time in some maximum security tomb of a prison or even death.

"It matters not what transpired here, father. I absolutely forbid you or anyone else to lay a hand on this man. Under no uncertain terms is he to be punished for this offense. I am not accusing him of any crime."

There was a low and uncomfortable muttering amongst the bystanders. Bato clenched his teeth, but took Katara's word as law. He began the difficult job of dispersing the nosy onlookers. Hakoda regarded Katara in silence. She neither moved nor faltered in her imperial gaze until he bent his head in unenthusiastic agreement. She bent hers as well.

"I'm not happy with this, Katara."

"I wouldn't assume otherwise, father. But my decision is final."

He sighed and came to stand beside her. "I remember when your temper tantrums were noisier and more violent. They were easier to defuse and overrule."

Her lips twitched and she gave a little. "At least I don't habitually pull the Fire Lady card."

Her father chuckled. "Fair enough." He cast his reminiscent eyes back to where Zuko still hadn't budged. Hakoda's nostalgia turned to frosty distaste. "What are you going to do with that one?"

Katara grinned. "I'm going to invite him to dinner."

* * *

Katara had thought rising to Zuko's challenge a mistake. The strained and nagging silence around the dinner table now solidified that belief into cold hard truth. This was worse than any burn she could have gotten. She would have been able to heal herself with a bit of water. No one was talking, and everyone was fixing each other with malignant glares.

Okay. The malignant doom eyes were mostly coming from Zuko and Sokka, but Hakoda was not far off.

Suki kept firing worried glances at Katara from her spot to Katara's left. Katara was trying to ignore these glances. Tikaani just gurgled in enviable oblivion. Cale was standing as still as a statue on the threshold, along with another guard Captain Long had insisted on providing. Lana dithered fretfully, jumping to refill glasses and plates, using empty dishes as an excuse to disappear into the blessed relief of the kitchen as much as possible. She was still a nervous wreck around Zuko.

Sokka sat on Suki's left, across from Zuko who sat alone on his side of the table. Katara kept trying to deter her foolish brother from openly staring at Zuko's scar, but Sokka pretended not to notice her angry glower. Hakoda sat at the head of the table, across from his daughter. He watched Zuko, too.

Katara sucked in a deep breath and let it go. She propped her elbows up on the table, and placed her chin on the backs of her folded hands. "So, Zuko. How did you become interested in your art?"

Zuko tore his eyes away from Sokka's and cast one of his impudent looks at her. She beamed at him; Sokka snorted and dug into his meal.

Her father spoke before Zuko could answer. "You're an artist?"

Katara watched out of the corner of her eye as her father's shoulders seemed to relax just a smidge. She smiled again.

Zuko, surprised at Hakoda's involvement, dipped his head respectfully. Katara smiled wider and spooned some Five Flavored Soup into her mouth.

"What sort of art?"

"Glass-work, sir," the firebender rasped.

"You should see his work," Suki offered pleasantly. "It's awfully beautiful."

"It's alive."

All eyes turned to Lana where she had stopped behind Sokka to listen to Zuko's answer. She blushed violently and busied herself with serving once more. Zuko grinned.

"You make it all yourself?" Hakoda took control of the conversation again.

Zuko looked perplexed at the sudden barrage of questions and also happier now that the focus was turned from his earlier transgression.

"Yes, sir. I lived with my uncle from the time I was very young until he died a few months ago. We were often without stability in the sense that we called no one place our home. Travelling gave me the opportunity to experience unconventional lifestyles and conditions."

Zuko reached for his glass and took a sip of water. "My uncle was a simple man, and he loved seeing every aspect of the world. He wanted a better life for me—I could tell. But he also saw that our journeys were affecting me in a positive way. He's the one who introduced me to fine arts. I was maybe ten years old when I decided that I wanted to learn how to use my bending to make art."

Katara was impressed. She hadn't expected surly Zuko to be so forthwith, and with strangers to boot. She lowered her spoon to continue listening.

"I told your daughter and Suki that I was largely self-taught, when they inquired the other day in my shop. I experimented with all the elements involved in glass making on scraps. When we found a village with a glassblower, I'd offer free labor in return for a few lessons." He smiled as he paused. "I wasn't often turned away."

Everyone was paying attention, interested in the man's story. He continued. "I achieved what one would call Mastership of the art at the age of twenty, but I am constantly learning something new or attempting to better myself."

He stopped talking and raised his eyes to Hakoda. Hakoda held his gaze and they studied each other openly. Katara could tell that Hakoda had little interest in the scar and inveterate scowl; he was dissecting the spirit within. A process that reached its end when Zuko said, "Chief Hakoda, I apologize for the distress I caused you earlier. I have no excuse for attacking Lady Katara other than that of vainglory, and that is no excuse at all. You have agreed to let me into your home, and to eat with your revered family; an honor I do not deserve in the slightest. I know that I owe my presence and current freedom to Lady Katara, and I am thankful, but I apply now to you. I humbly submit myself before your judgment and beg you and your family's forgiveness."

He did not bow, he did not scrape. He held Hakoda's eye and spoke concisely, and without a silly hopefulness that words would be enough to rectify the situation. Katara watched him, her lips parted in astonished silence. Sokka also looked stupefied at such an honest apology, and Suki had a soft smile on her lips.

Hakoda returned Zuko's steady and modest gaze for only a few seconds more. "I accept your sincerity and reply with my own. You will receive my goodwill with the understanding that you threatened my child with physical assault. I cannot abide by those actions, but I can see that there is a stronger and far kinder quality you possess, and I wish for it to flourish rather than be imprisoned." Hakoda paused and assessed the young man, before his harsh countenance softened. "Artists are often wandering and confused souls, but they are also potentially nurturing and gentle. Without them, the world would be dark and unwelcoming." He smiled at Zuko. "I hope you find what you are looking for."

No one spoke. Zuko's expression was far too stoically grave, in Katara's opinion, for someone who had just received such an eye-opening blessing from the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. But, she supposed that Hakoda found an understanding in the moment between the two men. They nodded at each other, and just like that, the tension dissolved.

"So, jerkbender, why haven't I seen any of this art?" Sokka asked as if he hadn't been set to stab Zuko with a utensil all evening.

Zuko remained stolid. "Because you haven't come in the shop."

"Oh, right. Well, maybe I will sometime."

Hakoda cleared his throat. "I am interested in how you learned how to fight, Zuko. Surely an artist only needs the barest techniques to protect his stock."

The implication may as well have been voiced. Zuko had fought methodically and with perhaps strained discipline, but discipline nonetheless. Hakoda recognized military training.

Rather than dance around the question, Zuko faced it head on. "My uncle had served in some lower branch of the Fire Nation reserves before circumstances forced him to accept a nomadic life. He taught everything he knew to me, to ensure I'd always be able to protect myself."

Katara let out a grateful breath that Hakoda didn't pry Zuko for more information. Instead, her father accepted the answer the artist gave. She didn't plan on remaining so quiet, but was saving her own interview for a more private setting.

Tikaani squealed in delight over something imperceptible to the adults.

Zuko looked over to the baby, and Katara felt a stirring in her chest as his boorish exterior cracked in the face of drooling stupor. His white teeth revealed themselves in an authentic smile, and Katara's heart fluttered like it had back on the first day she had met him. There was something so familiar in the way his lips moved and his cheeks creased…

A knock at the front door shattered her thinking.

Sokka leapt to his feet, blabbering inanely about "fancy glass" as he went to answer the call.

Zuko watched him leave, rolling his eyes. He caught Katara's gaze and winked. Katara grinned back.

"Katara, it's a message for you." Sokka reseated himself and dived back into conversation with Zuko.

"Thanks for the pertinent information, Sokka," Katara huffed irritably. She stood; ready to go to the door herself, when Captain Long appeared with a scroll. For a sickening moment, Katara felt an icy dread wash over her. Movement out of the corner of her eye shook her out of it, and she was fleetingly aware of Zuko sinking back into his chair.

"What's wrong?" She asked Captain Long quietly.

He nodded to her company, apologetic for the intrusion. "Nothing, my Lady—or at least, I do not suppose anything is the matter. You simply have a letter from Lord Gisō."

Katara stared at the letter in her captain's outstretched hand. A dizzying array of emotions swept over her in rapid succession: fear of something being wrong, astonishment that Gisō had actually written her, and unanticipated exuberance that warmed her cheeks and made her skin tingle. She clasped the letter to her chest and excused herself, vaguely conscious of a pair of golden eyes watching her go.

* * *

In the confines of her room, Katara opened the letter.

_My dearest love,_

_I pray this finds you enjoying yourself immensely. I hope that your nephew is healthy and happy, and that your brother is behaving himself in your presence. Please send your father my regards and Suki my love and congratulations on Tikaani. I believe that this letter will reach you before the full moon, and I can only wish you an auspicious evening when you can embrace your bending to the fullest._

_I miss you terribly. Dining with the dignitaries has been complete nonsense, and I fear they recognize my ineptitude at hosting; they keep inquiring about when "the Lady" will return. I swear to you I've tried. I've even complimented Lady Sato on her latest abomination of a hair style—_several times_._

Katara chuckled, unable to imagine what the poor woman had done to her head this time.

_I will turn my attention now to Avatar Aang, for I know that we parted in consternation on the subject—for which I apologize sincerely. He is well and I know he sends his well wishes. He is still here and will remain here until we can resolve the issues he has brought to my notice. I imagine that he will continue here to see your safe arrival. _

_I hope you will not be upset that I do not go into detail regarding his reasons for coming here. I have every intention of filling you in when you return, and of solving the problems as quickly and as efficiently as possible._

Katara felt some of her annoyance at Gisō dissipate. She only hoped he'd keep his promise.

_Do not feel obligated to send a return letter, for I will see you in a matter of days, and I know you must be having much fun being back with your people. I wouldn't dream of taking up any of your time, turtleduck. I am in full anticipation of hearing about your trip when you're back in my arms._

_Your ever faithful servant,_

_Gisō_

_P.S. Himitsu is fine. I looked in on her yesterday, and she conveyed how much she misses you. _

Katara read the letter twice before rolling it back up and setting in her lap. At some point while reading it, she had sunk onto her bed. Silent tears rolled down her face. Guilt stabbed at her belly. How she could ever have thought Gisō did not love her baffled her. He had not been obliged to write her—Gisō was funny about what he considered obligatory. She knew that she should reply, and would do so later that night.

For now she would return to the others and put their minds at ease.

When she entered the dining area, she quickly realized that they were minus one person.

"Where is Zu—the artist?"

Suki gave her an odd look. Sokka shrugged as he cleaned his boomerang. "He left."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This one is a long one. Enjoy all the feels; I certainly did :)**

**Thank you, Sarah, for editing.**

**Chapter 7**

On the fifth day, she visited Zuko without her usual retinue.

It had taken her an infuriatingly long time to convince everyone that she did not want company that morning. Yes, everything was fine back home; Gisō was well, Aang was fine; there were no conspiracies, plots, upheavals, or any otherwise nefarious goings-on happening in the Fire Nation at the moment. At least, not that Gisō had specified.

Katara had thought about the letter incessantly through the night; it impinged on her sleep and her dreams. Sometime, deep in the cold morning hours, she had come to the conclusion that Gisō had not said much of anything in his letter. His well wishes had read persuasively, and he honestly seemed to miss Katara…but that was all the letter had been. And in her fatigued and irritable state last night, Katara had starting finding the whole business terribly shallow.

Because, she had reasoned with the wall of her room, Gisō really hadn't needed to take the time to write all of those empty blandishments. The letter had been very surprising, and the wakeful waterbender tossed and turned as she tried to figure out why he had written it at all. He had said Aang was still there. But he hadn't said why her old friend had even come in the first place. That was what truly dug at Katara. This whole issue with Aang was gnawing at her insides. Why Gisō even felt the need to bring the Avatar into the scope of the letter was beyond her sleepy rationalization.

And then Katara had come to the point of delirium. Wild conspiracies flew through her head: secret organizations Aang had been tracking; deadly assassins around every corner; the possibility of the letter being intercepted, hence the need for ambiguity…

A sound palm to the forehead halted those thoughts. Though, in all reality, the fact that the letter could be intercepted wasn't so wild an idea. Of course the Fire Lord wouldn't want important Avatar information on a potential course into the wrong hands.

After very little sleep and much grumbling, Katara had awoken, groggy and guilty. Gisō had taken the time to write to her and wish their family good health; which was more than her treacherous mind had even anticipated. Naturally, she wrote a joyful return letter and dispatched it with a morning messenger hawk after breakfast.

This brought her to her present destination, standing on the threshold of Zuko's shop with the bemused firebender eyeing her warily.

Katara cleared her throat and moved all the way into the tent. No one else was there, and the two regarded each other awkwardly before Zuko braved the waters of welcome first.

"Everything's fine in the Fire Nation, I assume?"

The inquiry startled Katara for a few seconds. "Oh, yes. My husband just wanted to make sure I was enjoying myself."

"And are you?"

Katara did not know why this question made her blush, but she could feel her face heating up unnecessarily. "Yes." And then almost defiantly: "I've enjoyed every minute here."

The implication hung in the air, obvious. Zuko smirked back at her from his place by the table of bottles he was polishing.

Katara rolled her eyes and started a circuit around the shop. She wasn't in any mood for pretty things, though. "I wanted to hear more about your uncle."

Zuko ceased polishing and eyed her even more wearily than before. "Why?"

She frowned at him. "Because it sounds like he was a great man."

Zuko contemplated this before setting the blue-green bottle down and crossing his arms. "He was. But why does the Fire Lady want to know?"

He sounded accusatory and Katara, learned in the arts of politics, became suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. "The Fire Lady doesn't want to know. Katara does."

Zuko snorted, and Katara grit her teeth in irritation. "Why are you so up in arms? Why would you care that I think your uncle interesting?"

"Because there's really no reason for you to. This is either the Fire Lady clumsily attempting to glean information about my uncle or a woman tip toeing around learning more about me."

His arrogance was unrivaled. Katara blanched and then burned in rapid succession. "You are mad! I asked about your uncle, not you!" She unconsciously stamped her foot. "If I wanted to learn more about you, I'd ask other people. They'd all probably tell me the same thing."

Zuko's eyes narrowed, his scar looking even more sinister in his wrath. "You're so—so"

"_What?_"

"SO INFERNAL."

A little puff of smoke issued from his left hand, which he immediately clenched. They glared at each other from across the room. "That's rich," Katara snapped.

Zuko sighed and stalked over to his jewelry counter, ignoring her. She traipsed after him, secretly pleased with her needling. "I just wanted to learn more about your uncle. You seemed to really respect him, and my father was right when he said you've got something more going for you than the whole angsty artist vibe."

She watched as he fiddled with the display cases and earring tower. He seemed longing to say something biting, but was refusing to rise to her bait. After a moment of silence and her stubborn refusal to leave, he bent.

"It's just that—I've always had the feeling that my uncle did some less than savory things."

Katara settled into a chair left out for clients and looked toward the entrance. They were still the only two in the shop. "And that's why you travelled so much?"

Zuko nodded, shooting her a quick glance. "I couldn't begin to guess what it might have been. We never stayed anywhere for more than a month, and—"

He looked at Katara's bright, unwavering gaze. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're pretty much the Law."

Katara burst out laughing, and Zuko looked confused. "Thank you for that compliment," she snorted through her mirth. "Fire Lady I may be, but I don't make the rules."

"No?"

She sobered at the hostility coating the syllable. "No. I sit in on all the meetings, I say my piece. Gisō and his advisors have the final say. I simply make suggestions."

She knew the bitterness in her voice was evident, but she hardly cared that this stranger heard her griping. "Why are you so convinced that what I hear about your uncle will somehow spell trouble?"

"You really don't see it? Or are you refusing to?"

"Explain it to me, now."

Zuko sneered at the command. "That's exactly what I mean. Yesterday, after our fight, you commanded that no harm come to me. You decision was 'final'."

Katara scowled. "Do you _want_ to go to jail?"

Zuko shook his head impatiently. "That's not what I meant. Your father listened to you. The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe acquiesced."

Katara thought she knew where this was going. She swallowed.

Zuko continued. "Maybe he is just an honorable man and takes his children's advice and words to heart. He was certainly fair to me. But don't you think it unsettling that the leader of an entirely separate but allegedly _equal_ nation bowed to your word as if it were scripture?"

Katara didn't know what to say. The end of the War of Water and Fire had ensured the separation of the two entities. They were on equal footing, just as Zuko suggested. The Fire Nation did not assume authority over the other nations in any way.

"You're speaking out of turn."

"Case and point."

Katara leapt to her feet. "I meant that any commoner should know not to speak to royalty that way, regardless of nationality."

Zuko laughed harshly. "You _are_ refusing to see it! And here I thought that maybe you weren't just a pretty figurehead ignoring the outside world."

Katara's eyes stung. To insinuate that she refused to care for people she was meant to protect with her status and abilities was the worst thing Zuko could have said. She wiped away the tear that fell and steeled herself against him. His anger had fallen from his face as soon as he saw her reaction. She looked up at him through murky eyes. "I would never presume that I have the power to control another ruler's people. I only want to protect everyone, and that included you, yesterday."

Zuko lowered his eyes, chastened and embarrassed. "I am sorry, my Lady."

Katara composed herself in the ensuing silence and sat back down on the little rickety chair. "I've had enough apologies since I've been home. I meant what I said when I told you I've been enjoying myself, but the arguing I've been a part of needs to stop." She smiled sadly at him. "Could I maybe start here?"

Zuko stared at her until she fidgeted. "Um, Zuko?" He started. "What? Oh. Of course. We should start over. I haven't exactly been pleasant to you. I don't plan on being antagonizing…it just happens."

Katara giggled and held out her hand. Zuko reached out tentatively and took it. It was a soft hand, slightly roughened by a callous or two. It was also a warm hand; Katara felt a shiver go down her spine. He let go.

"I really did want to hear more about your uncle," she said. "And you." She held the artist's eye for as long as she could before focusing on the necklaces in front of her. "Was he an artist?"

The energy around them quieted, and they lapsed into comfortable companionship as Zuko commenced with the story of Iroh.

"He wasn't an artist, but he appreciated art in all its forms. He tried his hand at painting every so often, but he liked to quip about his lack of talent. He was more of a storyteller and musician. He also loved tea." Zuko perked up. "Would you like some?"

Too amused by the man's enthusiasm, Katara could hardly object. "Yes, please."

Zuko disappeared into the area beyond his back tent wall in search of tea things. Katara waited patiently, occupying her time by studying the pieces around her once more. She always felt like she saw something different every time she entered the shop. She wondered why there were no customers clamoring over the works now.

Her company returned and poured the tea. "Admittedly, I can't prepare tea like he could." Zuko watched her drink anxiously. "He always said my tea was bracing."

Katara swallowed and secretly agreed with old Iroh. "It's good!"

Zuko grinned.

"Earlier you said that you tended to stay in places for no more than a month. Why do you think that was?"

"Because I think that maybe he was nervous. I don't know why he would have been, but he always skirted popular villages unless it was a very, very large one. It made me think that maybe he felt safer in large crowds. We tended to hit outer villages. They were homier anyway."

Katara nodded, mulling over the facts. "Maybe he just had a case of antsy feet."

Zuko smiled, but he was shaking his head. "He just seemed so family oriented. It always made me kind of sad that he refused to settle down." Zuko remained quiet while he thought about what he was going to say next. "I was always too afraid I'd make him sad if I asked why he didn't want to stay anywhere. I guess I thought it had something to do with my mother and father dying."

Katara stiffened. She tamped down the urge to grab Zuko's hand. "You said they died when you were young."

"Yes. I wasn't even a year old. We lived in the mountains. There was a bad storm, and it caused a mudslide. Our house was wiped out." Zuko was staring into his tea. "My uncle saved my life—my mother asked him to."

Katara teared up. "I'm so sorry, Zuko."

"It's okay. I've shed my tears. It happened so long ago—they were mostly tears of anger. I never got to know them, you know. I don't even know what they looked like." His knuckles were white around the little blue teacup. Katara vaguely wondered if he had made all his own dishes, too. "I've made my peace with their deaths. My uncle's death…" He grimaced. "After he honored them, Uncle took me away from there. I don't know which mountain it was, and we never went back. Part of me wanted to go back, as a sort of pilgrimage in their memory. I just never found the strength."

"How did your uncle die?" Katara asked gently.

"He was just old. We moved too much."

Katara wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she had no idea how to. He was stronger than she was. She could only protect those who needed her. Instead, she aimed for camaraderie.

"My mother died when I was young, too." She took a deep breath. "I was six years old, and the war was on the brink of starting. We were having trouble with Fire Nation raiders bombarding the villages every couple months. It started getting really bad, but we couldn't outright blame the government, because these men weren't affiliated—or so it seemed. They were just pirates. In international waters, they were outside the jurisdiction of the Fire Lord—Gisō.

"He was sixteen at the time, hardly more than a child. He had to pick up the pieces of the throne, you know. Assassins had killed the existing Fire Lord, Gisō's distant cousin. The entire line was wiped out." Zuko nodded, well aware of the history. Katara continued, her eyes lighting up in anger. "I suppose that's why things were coming to a head. The advisors Gisō had were corrupt and tensions were rising. I remember my father talking about it with my mother late at night. Neither side could come to terms on our problems. I guess the pirates were using our hatred of each other to do what they wanted. My mother paid the price."

She wasn't crying any longer. "One night, the pirates raided. It was more violent than any of the raids before. This time they weren't looking to steal anything; they just wanted to terrorize us. My mother died keeping me from harm."

"You married the Fire Lord, though." It was blunt, and ill-timed. Zuko admonished himself for even thinking of it. But Katara simply nodded. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The war is over."

Zuko waited for more, but the story ended there. Katara was tired of speaking of it. A deep, shuddering breath cleared her face of malice. She smiled sadly at Zuko. "We have something in common."

"Too bad it's something terrible."

Katara shrugged. "Sometimes the terrible things make the strongest bonds."

The cooling tea and the shifting shadows marked the passage of the hours. Outside, Katara could hear the muffled noises of the market and the tinkling of the sun catchers in the wind. The warmth and silence of the tent was making her drowsy. She moved and stretched her arms. Zuko stirred when she did.

"I should go. I have to help Suki with Tikaani. The feast is tomorrow night."

She was speaking fast and the facts she was pouring forth didn't really relate to each other. She coughed while Zuko looked at her with a bemused smirk on his lips. "You should come to the feast—it's my farewell one. It should be loud."

"And that's supposed to sell me on it?" He was teasing her. She laughed.

"No, but the food will be good. Plus, Sokka seems to like you for some reason, so I know he wouldn't mind seeing you."

Zuko snorted. "Your brother is interesting."

"You don't have to tell me twice." She stood, casting one more marveled eye around the shop. They reached the entryway simultaneously. "I can't believe there is no one here, today."

Zuko smiled and held the flap for her. "I was closed, today."

* * *

Katara had been right about one thing. The feast commemorating her last night there was indeed very loud.

The whole sixth day of her visit, the day of the farewell feast and the full moon, had been devoted to tumultuous preparation. Katara had found herself subject to Lana's wrath. The girl was torn between regret for having made her mistress angry with her all week and frustration for being on the receiving end of a cold shoulder. The way she had attacked Katara's hair and attire all day properly punished the Fire Lady. Katara had to admit that the result was well worth some hair pulling—figurative and literal.

Her dress was a new one that Gisō had had commissioned for her as a going away gift. Katara hadn't thought the gesture necessary, but he insisted on spoiling her. She thought it was beautiful when she saw it being placed into her luggage, but now, trying it on, Katara was mesmerized by it.

It was the lightest, airiest dress she had ever worn. The material enveloped her like a pool of cool water, and drifted over her skin like snow. It was not restricting in anyway, and Katara recognized the forethought that Gisō had put into the gown. It allowed for the ease of moment a master waterbender would need.

The color of the entire dress was uninterrupted frost—just the palest hint of blue permeated the silky cloth. The bust was the only part of the dress that clung to her in any way. Short sleeves hugged her shoulders, creating a neat square neckline. Crystals and sapphires studded the bodice, dripping down her right side, over the gauzy train, like a waterfall. She shimmered like the moon on the ocean.

The only downside to the dress that Katara could see was that she would not be able to wear Zuko's earrings with it. They were too dark for such a glistening dress. She settled on a pair of diamond teardrops and a simple necklace. A sapphire flanked by two tiny diamonds hung from a silver chain.

The dress had been a popular topic amongst her people when she stepped foot into the tent, arm-in-arm with her father. Women and children oohed and ahhed over her, while men bowed and grinned and called her an image of the moon itself. Sokka had even said she looked beautiful.

The air was thick with laughter and merriment as music played and couples danced in a cleared space between the high table and the rest of the crowd. Acrobats from the Earth Kingdom performed between sets, and Air Nomads did tricks with wind currents that made the children squeal in delight. People snacked on a plethora of cuisines, including, Katara had noticed happily, the ham she had tried on her first day at the market. She managed to catch the eye of the man who had prepared it, he waved back excitedly. Everyone was content. Katara soaked the night in, trying not to think about her impending farewell in the morning.

After the various performers exited the floor, Hakoda stood and addressed the hall. "Good evening, everyone. As you know, tonight we honor my daughter, Katara's, last night with us. Tomorrow she begins her voyage back to her husband and second family in the Fire Nation."

Murmurs of sorrowful regret bubbled through the assembly, and Katara smiled at her extended family. Her father continued.

"I know that we will all miss her, but that we will all wish her safe travels and send her good thoughts." He turned to Katara. "You know that you can come home any time, Katara."

She held back her tears as she stood to hug him. Sokka was discreetly dabbing at his eyes beside her. She turned to her people, subjects and equals; the natives of the water tribes, the Earth Kingdom, the Air Temples, and the Fire Nation alike. "I just wanted to thank you all for your hospitality and graciousness while I've been here. It means so much that we can all come together so auspiciously. Please know that I will always do my duty to you all; you have my vow."

Cheers went up and Katara saluted the mass of smiling people. Her father calmed them and finished his words. "There is one final gesture we would all like to make to you before you spend your vigil beneath the moon." He clicked his fingers, and a line began forming, much to Katara's bemusement. First and foremost were her brother and Suki.

They came forward, hands clasped. Sokka held a boomerang in his free hand, and his wife held a flowing green garment. They bowed to Katara, and Sokka spoke first. "Katara, I would like you to have this," he stepped forward, detaching himself from Suki, and reverently bestowed the boomerang into Katara's hands. It was hand-carved from whale bone, ivory and smooth, and decorated with traditional Southern Water Tribe protection glyphs. In all appearances it looked ceremonial, but Katara knew Sokka: this boomerang was fully functional. He met her shining eyes with a fierce and loyal gaze. "This is for you so that you may protect yourself if your bending should fail."

"Sokka," Katara stuttered. "It's beautiful. Thank you." She stepped down from her platform and the siblings embraced. "How will I learn to use it effectively, though?"

Sokka held her shoulders at arm's length, grinning. "Well, that's my second gift. I'm coming with you for a few months, and I plan on teaching you."

Katara could not speak. She turned to look at Suki, who smiled and nodded. Katara did not know how to thank either of them. That Sokka was determined to accompany her when Tikaani was still so young was, in her opinion, the highest honor her older brother could give. She also realized that there would be no persuading the parents against it. She simply nodded in return and said her thanks. Sokka stepped back to allow Suki to approach. The young woman held out the green cloth, and Katara finally understood what it was.

"While I will be unable to accompany you, Katara, I send with you the traditional garb of a Kyoshi Warrior. I hope that you will accept status as an honorary member, and always remember the Warrior Code when faced with difficulties."

Katara handed the boomerang to her father and gently took the Kyoshi robes in her hands. "Suki, words cannot describe the honor you do me. I will always remember the Kyoshi way." She placed the clothes carefully in Hakoda's arms and proceeded to wrap her arms around her sister. "Thank you for this and Sokka." Suki giggled and hugged Katara tighter.

More gifts were bestowed by various family members and vendors. Katara was in utter awe of the kindness being shown to her. She did not think herself worthy, but the people shushed her objections.

And then, quite suddenly, Zuko stood before her, a package of red cloth and blue wax carefully bundled in his arms. This was the first time she had seen him tonight, and her heart skipped strangely at the sight of him. She hadn't thought he'd come.

He took the last merchant's place and cleared his throat uncertainly. She gave him an encouraging nod. "Lady Katara, I present to you a gift from my own stock. I hope that you find it pleasing to the eye and agreeable to your spirit." He bowed and stretched forth the gift.

Katara took the parcel and cautiously slit the wax with a bit of water from her glass. Hakoda brought a little table over so she could unwrap the present without dropping it. She gasped when the red cloth fell away.

Inside laid the sun catcher of the Painted Lady. Her tiny decorated face stared serenely up at Katara, while her healing waters fed the rainbow of vegetation at her feet. In another panel, she saved a village from a flood, and in yet another, she danced across the surface of a lake.

"How—how did you know that I liked this one?" She lifted the sun catcher so the crowd could see. The torch light glinted off the pieces as they spun slowly from their cords. Zuko smiled up at her, the corners of his lips curling ever so distinctly.

"Lana told me."

Katara gaped and turned her head around to find her maid. The redhead was blushing violently and curtseying. "I saw how it affected you, that first day. I went and saw Zuko secretly even though…I told him how much you liked it, and asked him if he could maybe set it aside for a little while."

The girl stopped talking as the attention of the room fell on her. Katara put the glass art down and went over to her young friend. "Thank you, Lana. I appreciate this so much." Lana looked pleased and embarrassed. Cale was beaming from her side.

Katara turned back to Zuko. "Thank you, again. It's beyond compare." They held each other's eyes for a moment longer, before Zuko bowed and disappeared into the crowd. A final figure took his place.

Master Pakku stood erect, imperious as ever, haughty and a tad disdainful as he contemplated his old student. Katara straightened and lifted her chin in noncommittal response. Master Pakku's severe old face broke into a genial grin. Katara returned the expression. Somewhere behind her, Sokka sighed.

"Master Katara, my Lady of the Setting Sun, I bring to you a small offering with large significance." He raised his arm to reveal a petite vial dangling from a leather hoop. Katara knew exactly what it was. "I once gave you water from the Northern Spirit Oasis when you were young and green in experience. I knew that a gifted waterbender such as yourself would find reason to use it, and you ended up saving Avatar Aang's life during the War of Fire and Water. I offer it to you again, so that you may save more lives in your new home."

He passed the loop over Katara's head. "Your thoughtful brother brought it to my attention that a few of your subjects were suffering from blood tears," he went on, quietly. "I have never before encountered this affliction, but I have no reason to doubt that the Spirit Water will heal them entirely." He smiled at her slightly stricken expression. "Do not fret, my dear. I wasn't exactly the most welcoming of teachers when you arrived. And you have been busy reuniting with family. It's easy to blind oneself to one's duties when family is involved. Do not guilt yourself over forgetting to inquire. You have patients to attend to."

Katara steeled her emotions and nodded once. The two masters bowed deeply to one another, Katara whispering her gratitude.

After all of her gifts had been carefully stowed away with Suki, Katara thanked everyone for a final time, feeling the pull of the moon in her blood. It had been itching under her skin for the past hour, and it was time she answered. She motioned for Sokka to escort her, and together the siblings filed out into the light of the waiting full moon.

* * *

Katara and Sokka walked to the white, sandy beach in quiet contemplation under the moon's watchful eye. Katara's thoughts were full of her family and friends, and the persistent thunder of the nearing ocean.

The wild beach spread out before them as they rounded a small hill. The sand mixed with the snow that blew from the edge of the shoreline, and the waves crashed and lilted in great slathers of sea foam. This place was well away from the docks and noise of the village. Only the environment and the strolling pair seemed to exist.

The two of them came to rest right outside of the high tide's reach, and Katara removed her shoes. Sokka stared up at the moon, a faintly mournful veneration in his eyes. Katara squeezed his hand. "You still miss her."

Sokka nodded, mutely. There were no clouds threatening the brightness above. A swath of stars blinked in the navy vault above them, and the moon's benevolent shine mimicked their glittering in the waves below.

"Yue loved her people," Sokka sighed.

"She loved you, too."

"I know. She was too good for me. She was selfless…I was selfish."

Katara remained silent.

"I've changed so much since we knew her. I always felt guilty falling in love with Suki. I felt like I had betrayed Yue. Betrayed her sacrifice."

The ocean hissed in disagreement around their feet. The tide had risen further. Katara looked down at her toes in the water, and back up at the moon—her old friend, Princess Yue. "I don't think she sees it that way, Sokka."

Sokka wiggled his leather clad toes and smiled weakly. "She watches over me. She watches all of us. I think she would have liked Suki."

With nothing more to say, Sokka left Katara with the ocean and his lost princess.

Katara closed her eyes and inhaled the invigorating scent of the cold, salt air, letting the sadness for Sokka shed away. Her blood sang at Yue's touch. "Okay, Yue; let us bend."

Katara raised her arms, her palms over the water, her fingers limp. With another breath, she began to play. She started lightheartedly, fingers wiggling up and down, causing small splashes to erupt from the shallow water at her feet. It looked as though several invisible fish were creating ripples and bubbles in the foam. And then Katara lowered her stance and swept her arms outward to either side of her body.

Great tons of the water split around her position and rushed behind her, up to the scraggly snow-grass that marked where the mainland met the beach. Her arms went over her head and then lowered, her hands crossing before her eyes. With a mighty push, she sent the water speeding back to meet the next crush of waves. A fine mist betokened the collision of water, and Katara laughed as it coated her body and dress.

She strode deeper into the waves, until the water came to her knees. She did not fear for the dress, she would bend the water away later. The sand slid away with each step she took, but Katara held her balance as she felt the way the water moved around her. She smiled up at Yue.

Her next move was to summon water between her hands and render it into a swirling ball. The light of the moon made it look like there were candle flames stuck in the water. Twirling in a graceful circle, Katara sent the ball out toward the ocean. It unfurled like a coil of rope, the end of which Katara kept firmly in her right hand. She pulled it back in a quick snap of her wrist, and spun the end around herself like a lasso.

The ribbon of water gurgled around her as Katara pulled another strand from the ocean with her left hand. She began walking slowly along the beach, rolling her hands in intricate patterns. The single water whip soon formed a braid, which Katara froze into crystalline filigree. She ran her fingers over the frosty creation, loving the way Yue made it sparkle.

Her blood began to surge with the tide, and Katara sent the braid back into the ocean. Absently, she sent large waves crashing far behind her; she created bursts of sea foam to her left and right. She gathered her energies and breathed as Master Pakku had taught her to. She closed her eyes and removed herself from her anxieties: Gisō's distance, Aang's problems, her own self-doubts. It all dripped off of her with the ocean.

She tightened her hold on the Yue's ephemeral vigor, constricting all of the power into a little ball in her belly. Katara squatted in the undulating waves for several fleeting seconds.

When she rose, the water rose with her. Up and up and up, an offering for the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Higher the water soared, creating a roaring, spinning vortex around her. Katara laughed and laughed as she stared up at the moon through her kaleidoscope of blues and grays. Her skirts whipped around her legs, the winds buffeted her hair, and frost was forming on her skin.

Katara's eyes began to glaze and her head felt like it was being held under water. She felt light and woozy and detached. She lowered her eyes to peer through the wall of her whirlpool, and she caught the blurry image of a figure in the semi-distance. With the water and Yue protecting her, she did not feel alarmed.

Katara dropped her straining arms. The water fell down around her so promptly, it almost seemed to disappear. She blinked, and Yue had full control of the ocean once more.

"Thank you for letting me breathe, Yue," she whispered. She redirected her strengthening wits to where she had seen the person.

She approached the lone figure while dusting herself free of frost, somewhat unsurprised to see that it was Zuko. She felt her skin warm pleasantly.

"You have a habit of following me," he kidded easily as she greeted him.

Katara pretended to scoff. "Who said she was going to be here after the feast? It is the full moon, after all." His rasping voice was different out here in the clear air. He was different. He was here—Katara felt it was purposefully. Her belly tensed. Very abruptly, before she could think about it, she asked him about his scar.

He threw her a look so malevolent and full of disgust that she was afraid he was going to tell her to leave—that he'd never forgive her.

"I had hoped you'd be one of those whom ignored it." Zuko kicked at the snowy sand and watched her.

Katara's anxiety faded and felt confusion spread over her. She frowned and tilted her head. "Why would I ignore a part of you?"

Zuko ran a hand through his mussed hair. His mouth was open and his brows furrowed. "Lady Katara," he sounded incredulous, "how are you…?"

He left off and remained silent. Katara squirmed under his piercing gaze. "How am I what?"

"How are you like this?"

"What do you mean?"

Zuko seemed to deflate. He swallowed. "Normally, my scar inspires two reactions." He held up a finger. "One, someone voices their curiosity and I tell them. Their curiosity sated, I lose their interest." Zuko strode a few feet away and sat down on a rock. Katara could see his agitation in the way he bounced his leg. He held up a second finger. "Two, pity. Lots and lots of pity. And then I become the object of some twisted battle in a weird perception of morality. A charity case, essentially. Granted, that was more common when I was a kid, but…" He trailed off bitterly, shrugging. "I just tell people I burned it in an art accident."

Katara was at a loss for words. She felt angry. No wonder her genuine curiosity had floored him. The fact that he thought a lie felt better than whatever the truth was made her stomach hurt. She gnawed at her bottom lip a little and stepped closer before whispering, "What really happened?"

Zuko looked up, his hair hanging in his eyes. He blew a strand out of the way, revealing the scar and a haunted expression. "I don't know," he whispered back.

The waves crashed against the shore, breaking the monotony of timid silences. The two figures stared out to the horizon, companionable in their stillness. Katara pondered Zuko's admission as she watched the ocean. Clearly, if Zuko did not know the cause of his scar, then his uncle had not saw fit to tell him. If Zuko did not know, it had happened at an unfortunately young age—his memory could not relieve the mystery. She sighed, frustrated at this revelation.

Katara's attention was eventually drawn to something solid, glinting in the sand. She glided over and picked the shiny thing up. "It's a river stone. I wonder what it's doing here."

Zuko hoisted himself from his perch and came over. "It was probably deposited by a river far from here. Tons of rivers feed into the ocean. Currents could have brought it from anywhere."

The stone was the size of a large chicken egg. The base color was the color of sand, and darker brown flecks freckled it. White tendrils of a different mineral snaked over it, branching out in feather-fine veins. Katara turned it over and over in her hand, enthralled by the moonlight on its surface. Zuko stood close behind her, examining it over her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her hair. It was far warmer than the breeze.

"It's so smooth," she whispered, not moving. The water slid over their feet, eroding the sand beneath. Katara, attention long since taken from the movement of the water, rocked as the sand disappeared. Zuko absently touched her elbow, to steady her. He didn't take his hand away.

"My uncle used to say river stones were like the heart. Both are the purest works of art possible. Both are pushed and pulled, toughened and battered as they journey in the tides of life. And, yet, both are smoothest and loveliest when they finally settle." His fingers slid from her skin.

Katara thought her heart had met a tidal wave.

"I should leave you to your bending."

She half turned, protest poised on her tongue, when she caught his expression. Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded ever so slightly. "I leave tomorrow."

The ocean hissed over the sand and the breeze whipped up, sending a mist through the air. Katara shivered. Zuko remained still, and gazed up at the moon. "Then I say good-bye," his yellow eyes—eerily bleached in the moon's grace—swept over her face, as if memorizing it. "Take care of yourself, my Lady." He saluted her neatly, and left.

"Good-bye."

The river stone was still clutched in her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: One of my lovely readers had a question last chapter and I thought I would clear it up here for all of you in case there was anyone else wondering: Katara is 24, Zuko is 26, and Giso is 34. Aang would then be 22 and Sokka 25ish. Enjoy the update :)**

**Thank you, Sarah, for beta reading.**

**Chapter 8**

"I am almost finished packing your things, my Lady. Was there anything else you needed before we hand over the cases to Cale and the others?"

Katara heard the question, but her mind did not process it, wrapped in a haze of emotion as it was. Lana had to clear her throat politely and repeat herself.

"Oh, um. Did you wrap all of my gifts for Gisō and Himitsu carefully? And the one for Cale? What about the gifts my family and friends gave me last night?" Katara knew she was babbling unnecessarily; Lana had packed and double-packed all of the fragile items. The only things she hadn't were the gift Katara had not yet given her, and the vial of Spirit Water, which hung snuggly beneath Katara's dress.

But the young maid laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, Lady Katara. Those have all been tucked among your clothes for extra protection. I organized two outfits into a separate bag, should you want to change before landing at the palace."

Katara breathed a sigh of relief. She was blessed to have such a competent and intuitive aide in Lana. "Then I think that we are all set. Just finish up the one you're working on. I will send Cale in for everything. I'm going to go take one last stroll through the village."

Lana curtseyed, a less than appropriate smile beginning on her lips. Katara ignored it. "Make sure you have all your things, too," she added pointlessly as she swept from the room.

Cale stood in the front of her childhood home, talking animatedly with Sokka and another Fire Nation soldier Katara hadn't met yet. The woman was a little older than Cale by the looks of her, and she had a paler complexion that pinked when she saw Katara emerge from the house.

"My Lady." The woman bowed deeply, her hands forming the Fire Nation salute. Katara nodded.

"Good morning. What is your name?"

The woman straightened into a comically stiff posture, and Katara admired the long brown braid that tumbled down her back. "My name is Ty Lee, my Lady," she answered in a chipper voice.

Katara smiled at Ty Lee and studied her. "Are you a bender?" The soldier did not carry herself as any bender Katara had seen.

Ty Lee shook her head so fast, Katara felt dizzy. She was very eager to answer. "I'm not. I fight with standard weapons."

Cale grinned. "Don't let her fool you, Lady Katara. Ty Lee is a weapon in herself. She's developing amazing techniques thanks to her background in acrobatics."

Ty Lee shook her head. "He's over praising me, my Lady. I'm just working hard like everyone else. Though, if you ever want a demonstration of my skills, I would gladly show you."

Katara laughed in spite of herself. This young woman had an infectious quality of excitement and happiness. "I'd love to see your skills. Perhaps we can have an exhibition on the ship. We'll need the entertainment."

Ty Lee practically jumped up and down in her enthusiasm, but her soldier's training pinned her feet to the ground. Her big eyes gleamed. "Yes! I would be honored!" She bowed again.

Katara turned to Cale. "Lana is ready for you to take the luggage to the ship. I'm going to take one last walk through the village, and then I will be right back for the final farewell."

The last part was more for Sokka than it was for Cale and Ty Lee. Her brother nodded amiably while the latter pair filed into the house. "I'm going to spend a bit more time with Suki and Tikaani before we leave."

"Thank you again, Sokka. I know it must be hard to leave them."

Sokka's mouth crooked. "It's okay. I'm happy to come with you. Besides, I want to be able to help Aang and the Fire Lord if something's up."

Katara nodded, frowning. She berated herself for how easily she forgot about the mysterious problems Aang was having. She promised herself that she'd be more vigilant when she returned home.

Before he turned on his heel, Sokka added, "Make sure you spend your last few minutes with Dad. He hates when you leave."

A little wave of sadness washed over Katara's heart. She had spent every evening with her family, and had talked a lot with her father. She had brought him a sword from the Fire Nation forges, and had showered him with stories of Himitsu and her own tasks as Fire Lady. Yet, Katara knew that physical presents and sundry stories of topical things weren't what Hakoda had wanted from his daughter. He had wanted to be reassured of her happiness. And as much as Katara had smiled and laughed, she knew she hadn't convinced him.

Her roving mind was surpassed only by her roving feet. In a few minutes, Katara had reached the village at the base of her home. In the short distance beyond the modest ice houses, Katara could see the scattered remains of the market. The traveling merchants had worked hard into the night to pack their wares and tents. Most had left already. Katara's stomach clenched.

She let her feet guide her down the little path that acted as the main road of the village. Children and their polar bear-dog pups raced around her, shouting and barking respectively. She kneeled and gathered a clump of snow up. The little ones hunkered around her, eyes wide and mouths in the shape of the full moon.

Katara twirled the ball of snow in the air between her palms, stretching it thin and squeezing it back together again as it spun. The kids howled in excitement. One little girl tentatively held out her hands. Katara spun the snow over her outstretched palms. A shift in the snow's weight surprised her, and she removed her influence. The ball kept rotating.

Gasps of pleasure went up around the crowd, followed by whoops and laughter. The girl beamed up at Katara, still holding the snow in place. Katara knelt to look the girl in the eye. "Keep practicing. One day, you'll be a Master."

Katara stood back up and waved good bye to her new friends. The adults of the village waved from doorways, shouting wishes of good fortune and health to her and Fire Lord Gisō. Katara bowed, and moved on.

The snow was churned up where the market had been for the past week. A few tents still dotted the field, which looked bigger without the clustering of shops and people. Here and there a merchant bowed as she passed. She saw Monk Fu Hao, the Air Nomad whom had sold her the scarf, packing her things onto the back of an air bison. She smiled and bowed to the older lady, and continued on her path. A few moments later, Katara's blue eyes saw a moving splash of crimson against the white glare of the snow.

Zuko was once again hauling heavy boxes. His tent was down and packed onto a sledge being pulled by a camel. There were only a few boxes remaining for him to move. Katara, who had left her home that morning with frazzled thoughts, but who now had all the intensity of a mind well made up, marched toward the nonplussed artist. She halted only when a box-length separated her from him.

Narrowed, searching eyes met wide, clear ones. Katara formed her next words carefully.

"I would profoundly appreciate it if you would accompany me and my crew back to the Fire Nation palace."

Zuko's face relaxed. Katara could see his arms straining under the weight of his burden. They stared at each other in fixed contemplation. Zuko finally stepped back to put the box back on the ground, and remained with his palms resting on top, leaning impertinently. He exhaled dramatically, and a lock of black hair fluttered in his eyes. Katara squared her shoulders and waited for him to deny her considerate request.

"Your commands are so pretty," he remarked.

Katara smothered the flame of anger his words always seemed to inevitably fan. Instead, she couched her snarl in a charming smile. "I would call it an appeal."

Zuko snorted. "You would flood the beach and call it a ripple." He studied her thoughtfully. "Why do you want me to come with you?"

"Not just with me," Katara clarified speedily. "With all of us."

"Of course," Zuko's eyes flickered over her. "All of you."

Katara was secretly thankful for her darker complexion because her skin was on fire. She planted her hands on her hips, indignant. "The truth is there is a lack of artists in the Fire Nation that possess the natural talent you do. I don't know how many times I will have to spew compliments at you."

Zuko grinned. "At least once more."

Katara heaved her eyes heavenward, noting the sun's steady climb. She was running out of time. She turned her attention to Zuko's feet. "Look, if you refuse, it's fine. I just want an artist of your caliber on retainer for my home. We'd pay you for every commission."

A low whistle brought her eyes back to him. He was standing straight, now, his arms crossed. He looked down his nose at her. "I set steep prices."

Katara chuckled. "I know. I was robbed when I bought those earrings."

"You said they were unrivaled."

"Perhaps not in so many words." Her eyes glittered.

Zuko's mirthful expression hardened, oddly. He swallowed. "You want me to come back to the palace with you. For how long?"

Katara shrugged, perturbed by his sudden intensity. "I don't know. As long as you want."

Silence met her final proposal. She waited, stomach flipping unmercifully in her abdomen. She willed the rotten ingrate to answer before she buried herself in the snow. She glanced back up to the sun…the ship was due to leave in at least fifteen minutes.

"I expect my own apartments and working area."

Her head snapped down, her blue eyes popping. "You'll come?"

Zuko smirked, bending and hefting the box of fragile glass into his arms. "If you can spare a travel-weary firebender some room."

* * *

No one in Katara's entourage was surprised when Zuko appeared with the Fire Lady and boarded the airship like it had been planned since day one. Or, if they were, they were all too well-bred to comment. A few cocked eyebrows were all that met the pair.

Sokka, on the other hand, was very verbal.

"We're bringing jerkbender? Great!"

Zuko's alarmed expression produced giggles from Katara and Suki. Tikaani laughed simply because his mother and aunt were. Sokka's keenness to pester Zuko over the entirety of the trip was writ plain on his face.

Hakoda stood below the ramp leading to the deck, and traded a few words with his son. They clasped each other's wrists in a warrior's farewell, and Sokka turned to his little family. Hakoda pulled Katara to the side.

"You enjoyed your time here?" He seemed worried that she hadn't; his lined face tilted in concern. Katara answered with a hug.

"Of course, I did, Dad. It's home."

Father and daughter held each other for a long time while the last of the crew boarded. Suki and Tikaani stood a little away, waving up at Sokka. The young tribesman was standing—rather hypocritically—on the same ledge Katara had when she first arrived. He was yelling words of comfort to his wife. Only Captain Long remained at the base of the ramp.

Katara broke the hug first, and smiled up at her father. Hakoda smiled back.

"I'll continue writing. I will want to hear all about Tikaani and the village. I'm sure Sokka would, too."

"Katara, don't worry about us. Focus on your own happiness," Hakoda murmured. "Please."

A mute nod did little to assure him, Katara knew, but it was time to leave. Captain Long stepped forward, bowing to Hakoda, and promising to care for Katara's every need while they returned to her second home.

"Good-bye, Katara."

"Good-bye."

* * *

Four hours into the trip and Katara was going stir crazy. Sokka was too busy lusting over the mechanics of the ship to provide decent company, and Lana had taken to staying in Katara's rooms to stave off airsickness. Zuko had also disappeared. She had seen him heading for the cargo hold, ostensibly to keep an eye on his fragile goods; although Katara suspected he was avoiding Sokka. It was just as well, Katara thought guiltily; people seemed to be suspecting the worst about her acquaintanceship with the firebender. Her cheeks burned mildly before she decided to stop worrying about it. Gisō would be awestricken by Zuko's artwork. He would be pleased to have such an artist on retainer.

Still, the loneliness was disheartening. She had only Cale by her side, but the boy was back to taking his position as her chief protector seriously. He only answered questions and did not try to continue conversation. Katara found herself missing Suki terribly.

She turned her thoughts back to her husband. Her toes were itching to be back on the ground. She wanted nothing more than to see his face and convince herself that he had missed her as much as his letter conveyed. If she could just see him smile—seeing his dimple would prove it. His genuine happiness was always reflected in that charming little flaw.

Katara leaned against the rail and watched the landscape change below her. Rolling hills of green indicated that they were passing over the southern portions of the Earth Kingdom. She estimated that they'd soon have the ocean beneath them once more. And then: home.

Katara's joy must have been evident on her face, because Cale softened. "Excited to get home, my Lady?" He joined her at the rail.

Katara nodded. "I didn't realize that I'd miss the Fire Nation so much after being gone for so short a time. Usually, when I travel away, it doesn't strike me so hard. I can't explain why, but I just want to feel the palace floors beneath my feet again, as soon as possible."

Cale grinned widely at her, and Katara felt a blush creep up her neck. "I've missed my husband…you can tell."

"Well, why shouldn't you miss him? He'll be very glad to have you back, too, you know."

The minutes fluttered by, and soon they were over the ocean. "Only a few more hours, my Lady," Cale declared importantly. "I have an idea! Why don't we go find Ty Lee. She could give us the demonstration she promised you. It will pass the time."

"Cale, that is a most excellent suggestion."

It wasn't hard to find Ty Lee. The Fire Lady and her guard simply listened for her exuberant laugh. She was with a group of soldiers who appeared to be playing Pai Sho. The men were regarding each other anxiously across the game board. Katara had an inkling that Ty Lee's presence made the game more intense than it otherwise would be. She chuckled to herself.

Everyone stood at attention when she approached with Cale. "I hate to interrupt your game, but I was wondering if Ty Lee would care to show me her fighting techniques. I've heard intriguing things about them."

Ty Lee hopped up and down and clapped her hands together, forgetful of her status as a Royal Guard. "Oh, I'd simply love to, my Lady." She turned to her comrades. "Would anyone like to be my assistant?"

There was an odd mixture of reactions. A few men tripped over their own feet to volunteer, while more of them hung back nervously, the Pai Sho game completely forgotten.

Cale laughed from his spot at Katara's right while Ty Lee inspected her takers. "Those three are fairly new."

"Why do you say that?" Katara asked. Ty Lee selected the huskiest of the three men, who grinned smugly at his pals. Cale gestured at the men who stayed a few feet away.

"They've all fought Ty Lee before. Equally determined to be her sparring partners, all of them. They learned the hard way that that pretty girl can inflict some heavy damage."

Katara turned back to where the soldiers were preparing in the middle of the deck. She was even more interested to see what this limber girl could do.

Ty Lee's partner was a firebender. He very blatantly sent up great puffs of smoke and fire in, Katara's opinion, a feeble attempt to scare Ty Lee. The woman ignored him as she stretched. Katara and Cale took up position where they could see both combatants clearly.

The bender moved first, predictably. He surged forward with little thought, which was his first mistake of many during the short fight. Ty Lee responded with none of her beguiling nature. She moved with a precision unequipped for preserving manly dignity. She was behind the blundering firebender before his flames had gone out.

Katara gasped in alarm. "How?"

Ty Lee dodged an angry spinning assault, gracefully somersaulting through the air over the man's head. An arc of fire followed her descent, but her bare toes had barely touched the deck before she was cart wheeling cleanly to the left. A few firebending spectators safely put out the flames.

Ty Lee's dexterity was unlike any Katara had ever seen. Not even the yearly circus that visited the palace boasted such fine acrobatics. Ty Lee literally danced circles around the increasingly irate bender. Fire and fists flew wildly after the laughing girl. The man bellowed in rage, charging after Ty Lee as she back flipped across the length of the ship. Katara was about to cry out as the soldier came close to running into the large, central mast, but the alarm died in her throat. Ty Lee had flipped so that she could ascend the pole with her hands. Her feet preceded her body up and up.

"This is phenomenal!"

Cale was laughing along with the rest of the assembly as the rampageous firebender sent rockets of fire up after Ty Lee. The woman was swinging from the various cords and ropes, making her way back down to the ground. Someone behind Katara spoke up.

"She is good."

Zuko had finally reappeared. His eyes were wide as he followed the action. Katara smiled at him. Cale clapped the newcomer on the back. "Just you wait."

Ty Lee was on the ground again. She side stepped every punch and kick thrown her way. She was coming precariously close to contact with her partner. Katara feared she would soon get burned.

But then something happened. The firebender's arm hung limply at his side. Katara frowned. The bender shouted curses. Ty Lee spun around him, and Katara saw what had happened. The acrobatic girl pelted the man's body with quick jabs to various parts of his back and arms. Katara's mouth gaped when his other arm failed as well. And then he was on his knees…his face. Limp as a cooked noodle, the man lay defeated. Zuko swore.

"She's a chi-blocker."

Cale and Ty Lee's fellow soldiers were flocking around the girl, congratulating her. Katara glanced at Zuko. "A chi-blocker?"

"Someone who can block the passages of energy in the body. In benders, that means their bending."

Katara looked back at the fallen man, stricken. "She took his bending away?"

Zuko nodded before catching himself. He looked at Katara. "Don't worry," he hastened to elaborate. "It's not permanent. In fact…yes, he's getting up now."

The man was on shaky feet. He cast Ty Lee a distasteful scowl before shuffling off to lick his wounds. "Wow," Katara breathed.

She followed Zuko over to where Ty Lee was blushing with excitement. "That was amazing," the artist complimented the woman.

The oddest sensation passed through Katara at the warranted praise. Ty Lee's fighting was amazing. Hers had just been "pretty good". Katara stopped in her tracks. The jealousy roiled a bit longer in her stomach. Her fists clenched.

"Lady, are you well?"

Katara blinked and she could see Ty Lee's worried eyes on her face. She gulped. "Oh, yes. The altitude must be making me heady, finally." Ty Lee relaxed and removed her steadying hand from Katara's shoulder. Zuko eyed her carefully. Katara refused to look at him. "Ty Lee that was the most stupendous action I've seen in ages. Your skills are incredible. You are truly an asset to our infantry."

Ty Lee beamed widely and bowed. "You have no idea what your words mean to me, my Lady. I shall continue to serve your faithfully."

Katara bobbed her head. The violent feeling was subsiding, but it left her queasy. "Cale, I'm going to retire to my rooms for a few minutes. I need to rest before we arrive."

Cale bounded to her side. "Right away, my Lady. I should like to see that Lana is feeling alright as well." He offered his arm, which Katara accepted quickly. A furtive glance to the left propelled her away. Zuko's sharp and musing gaze burned in her mind's eye well after her door was safely closed behind her.

* * *

_Katara was home in the tundra of the Water Tribe. For a moment, confusion dominated over joy as she took in her surroundings. Maybe they hadn't left yet._

_The villagers were hard at work, taking care of their daily chores and gossiping merrily with one another. Sokka and Suki were playing with Tikaani. Hakoda looked on, rapture in his eyes._

_Katara waved at everyone. They waved back. The day was bright, crisp, and lively._

_It seemed a parody. Katara did not know why, but she felt like everything was a ghostly shimmer of reality. The sunlight coated the village too perfectly, and the snow glittered as if through a filter. The smiles on the faces of her people were almost doll-like._

_And then the sun set._

_It was not night time. Nor was it dusk. Everything sank into a mist of almost color. The barest hint of blue in the sky and purple in the eyes of her friends remained. A cold tingling went up her spine._

_Suddenly, an explosion shook the air. An ice wall blasted to pieces with the force of the cannon that struck it. Cries filled the air: her people were running, and large, evil looking men were swarming the streets. Their voices screeched unbearably. They laughed as they began destroying everything in their paths._

_Katara screamed, and sent a panicked rocket of snow and ice at the threat. More mocking laughter sent her running on stumbling feet. Sokka, Suki…everyone was lost in a field of jilting bodies and flashing swords. This wasn't supposed to be happening. The peace reigned…the peace… _

_A man leapt in front of her as she ran. Skidding to a stop, she managed to avoid his reaching hands. Gasping, she spun at once on her heel._

_Hot, calloused hands greeted her; long, lithe fingers wrapping tenderly but securely around her trembling wrists. Katara lifted her fearful, watery gaze. _

_It was met with pale skin and golden eyes and a scar made of horrible, bloody memories._

_"I'll save you from the pirates."_

_A face, twisted in hate, but blurry and unremarkable, appeared over her rescuer's shoulder. A knife glinted. Katara screamed._

She launched upward from her bed, silk duvet flying to the floor, sheets and gown tangling around her limbs. Her skin was drenched, her chest heaving. Blue eyes darted wildly around the room. A cacophony of running feet and shouts were converging on her room from the labyrinthine maze of halls outside.

An uncanny sense prickled at her arms and neck, and most unwillingly, Katara turned her head toward the porthole.

A face leered at her.

* * *

"Tell me again."

Sokka paced around Katara's room while the latter sat on her bed, a long, scarlet robe and Lana's comforting arm around her. She watched her brother cut his angry, lancing path over the lush carpet. Captain Long and several soldiers milled around the edges, waiting for Katara to explain the situation once more. Zuko leaned in the doorway, eyes slit and observant.

The sight of him grounded her.

"I was having a nightmare," she reiterated. Sokka kept stalking back and forth. A tiny murmur went through the ship's crew. Captain Long hushed them. Lana squeezed her tighter.

"I was still home. In the Water Tribe, I mean. Sokka, you were there, and Dad, and Suki. Your son. Everything was fine, except it didn't feel fine. And then…"

Sokka beckoned her to continue as he walked. Katara closed her eyes. "The pirates."

Her brother halted and faced her. His eyes were deeply sad. "Katara…"

Katara shook her head slightly. She could tell Zuko had reacted to the words. He had stood straighter, more alert, and just for a second, Katara saw again the dangerous man who had challenged her in the snow. She shuddered. Lana, who also knew of her lady's past and mistook the shiver, cooed words of comfort.

Captain Long stepped forward. "I am sorry that you were frightened, my Lady. But everything seems to be in order, now."

Katara shook her head again, more rapidly. "No. It's not." She looked at Sokka with hard eyes. "There was someone in the window."

Several heads snapped toward the porthole. Zuko slipped out of the room. Sokka approached the aperture and inspected it. "Did you see who it was?"

Katara inhaled. "It was a little blurry, but yes, I know who it was." She looked to Captain Long. "He's a soldier on the ship."

* * *

It was like one of the tribunals found in Gisō's courts. The accused stood, solitary and grim-faced, his fellow soldiers in organized lines across the deck. Half of them appeared perplexed with the proceedings, while the other half—the half that the gossip spread through quicker—glared maliciously at the lone figure. Katara commended their loyalty to her, but she refused to pass judgment until she had heard the man's point of view.

He was one of the pair of soldiers she had noticed on the first trip. He and a woman of undeterminable ages had seemed less than hospitable upon greeting the Fire Lady; Katara remembered their angry, gray eyes. The man, standing before them all now, had been the one lurking at her window. She hadn't been fooled by the distorted image the glass had cast. This man was weather-worn—which added or detracted from his age. He was tanned, and his gray hair was pulled up in a knot. Bristly mutton chops framed an unsympathetic face. His eyes glittered alertly, but he did not so much as look at anyone while he waited. He was clad in the typical Fire Nation Army uniform, but Katara could not tell if he was a bender or not.

The woman Katara had seen him with the first time was among those in line. Katara could not tell what the woman was thinking, but she did not appear pleased with the situation. Her gray eyes were hidden beneath unsavory eyebrows and a tightly pulled bun of wiry black hair. Her nose was very thin, and led to equally thin lips. Katara ventured to guess the two might be related.

Captain Long took charge of the trial. Sokka remained glued to Katara's side, boomerang spinning threateningly in his hand. The accused ignored the sight. Katara pressed her hand against Sokka's free wrist comfortingly. Cale stood on her other side, his hand on his sword hilt. Katara was glad that there was no earth for him to work with high up here in the chilly air. She had seen him practicing in one of the earthy patches of land back home. The boy was lethal with stones. She just hoped he could stay his sword hand.

Katara scanned the crowd for Zuko. He was standing well out of the way, against the rails behind the lines of soldiers. His face was impassive.

Captain Long cleared his throat. "Zhao, you stand here so that we might hear your excuses for being found outside the Fire Lady's rooms when you had no reason to be."

Zhao snorted contemptuously. "So it is a crime to pass by a window, now?"

Angry buzzing ran through the ranks. Captain Long stood right in front of the spiteful man. "You do not deny that you were there?"

"Why should I? I was coming down the walk way when I heard the lady screaming. I knew it was a long way around to her door, so I looked in through the porthole."

"And why were you on that side of the ship? Your station is up on the deck with the masts."

Katara focused on Zhao's face. The man was not kind. Katara knew deep down that her safety and well-being were no concern of his, whatever his excuses. In fact, she felt it in her bones that she were directly threatened, he wouldn't just be sitting idly by, he'd be the one threatening.

But feelings weren't going to prove anything against Zhao today, no matter how much her friends believed her. They needed cold, hard proof of malicious intent, and Zhao simply being at the window wasn't it. Besides, the whole crew knew that she had been dreaming; nothing was to stop them from chalking up the face in the window as an ephemeral flight of fancy.

Captain Long seemed to follow this logic as well, even if he did seem suspicious. He waited for Zhao to answer his question.

"I needed to go below decks to the supply room for more rope. The quickest way is to pass by Lady Katara's rooms on the outer terrace of the ship." He slipped a hand into his vest and produced a coil of rope. The men and women grumbled in disappointment or frustration. This had been a waste of time.

Captain Long nodded curtly. "I suggest you stay well away from the lady for the remainder of the trip. When we land, take a few days off." With that, he dismissed everyone.

Sokka was most vehement about the results. "If he so much as looks at you, Katara, I'll throttle him." They watched Zhao and the woman disappear across the deck. Katara sighed.

"Well, there's no doing anything about it now. My instincts can't really prove that those two are up to something."

"Those two?" Sokka took her by the shoulders. "What do you mean? Has that woman bothered you before?" With each question, Sokka was reaching octaves Katara hadn't heard since they were teenagers. A bubble of hysteria popped in her chest, and she started laughing uncontrollably. Sokka looked aghast.

"Maybe you should slap her."

Zuko's sarcastic rasp was as effective as any slap Sokka could have administered. Katara sobered immediately and turned her exhausted anger on her guest. "And where did you slink off to back in my room?"

Zuko's eyebrow went up. "I went to check the other side of the window. No one else in your stellar gathering of 'soldiers' thought to do the same."

Sokka perked up. "Good work, jerk! Did you find anything while you were sleuthing?"

Katara pinched the bridge of her nose while Zuko's eyebrow disappeared beneath his bangs. Sokka's detective instincts were erupting after a long dormancy.

"Not exactly," Zuko admitted grudgingly. "Although, I did notice that it's nearly impossible to see into your room clearly, my Lady." The look he gave Katara suggested that he found her ability to identify her lurker mediocre at best. She was about to give him a scathing opinion, but Sokka interrupted her.

"Maybe I should take a look around the porthole. I am quite a good detective."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Sokka, you couldn't detect a grasshopper-hornet if it were stinging your rear."

An offended yelp was all her brother could muster. She waved her hand for silence. "Look, I'm not saying that it meant anything, but it was definitely Zhao playing peeping tom. He and that woman—maybe his sister—were less than welcoming on the first journey. They gave me such terrible looks."

A badly suppressed snort of laughter had Katara wheeling on Zuko. "What?"

Zuko's lips were struggling to stay impassive. "Not to impugn, but did you ever think that maybe you're just not loved by everyone?"

"That is—you are the most—you…Sokka!"

"I'm sorry, Katara," her brother snickered behind his hand. "But maybe they just don't like you."

"So you're going to throw away my gut instinct on that?"

Sokka cleared his throat. "Of course not. I'm going to make sure no one hurts you, and I'm sure Zuko won't either. We're only teasing."

"Fine time to be teasing." She stomped away from the infuriating pair.

"Katara!"

She forgot her anger instantaneously. A mountain had sprung from the horizon; a sight Katara felt ricochet down to her toes. She wrapped her arms around herself. The Fire Nation, her second home, spread out from the base of the volcano like the long inactive lava. A steady roar could be heard beneath the engines of the airship, and she realized that the citizens below were out and welcoming her back.

As the airship glided along, the vista of the fertile mountain valleys spread out before her, framing the vibrant city below in soft greens and yellows. And then, the palace itself soared into view, a sparkling gem forged in the hot, black soil. Katara inhaled and squeezed herself tighter. Somewhere down there, Gisō was waiting for her. She prayed he did so with a smile.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: A few notes before the chapter starts: 1. Things get a little saucy in this chapter. That is to say, a prelude to a love scene happens a little ways into the chapter, but it is not explicit. I hope that it is done well enough :) 2. There is more than likely going to be a hiatus between this and the next update. Rather then updating on Monday the 25th, I'll probably update the following Monday, September 1. I hate to do it, but I've fallen behind in writing chapters, and I want to have more written before I end up publishing all the ones I have and then not knowing where to go with it. I hope everyone understands.**

**Thank you to Sarah, for editing.**

**Chapter 9**

Katara bounced on the balls of her feet while the airship sank down into the embrace of the dock. Lana was behind her, attempting to settle the Fire Lady. Sokka was a few paces back, straightening the tunic he had traded for his furs in anticipation for the balmy climate. Captain Long stepped to Katara's right once more.

Katara could see Gisō clearly now. Her breath caught.

Tall and broad shouldered, Gisō cut a fine, imperial figure among the receiving party crowding the docks. His jetty curls created sweet circlets around his pale face, softening his hard features. She knew his warm honey eyes watched the ship as it landed. He wore the regalia of a Fire Lord presiding over guests: long, sweeping robes of scarlet and black draped his muscular frame. The golden fire emblem, redesigned because of his shorter coif, was pinned to his outer robe.

For a moment, Katara was shocked. She had forgotten how intimidating Gisō was. And how handsome.

She stopped bouncing, but her fingers twisted together. She did not see a smile.

The ship gently bumped the dock, and several crew members bent to their tasks of securing the vessel. Captain Long offered his arm as the ramp slid into place. Katara inhaled.

The first step off the ship was on shaking legs. Why in the world she was so scared to see her husband was beyond Katara's understanding. Her anxiety seemed to be going far outside of hoping he'd be happy to see her. She blamed the feeling on her scare on the ship. Gisō would protect her, even if he was angry with her.

Each step became more sure footed. The crowds parted before her; shouts of welcome and adoration rained on her, and she answered with graceful waves and small smiles. Only her shifting eyes betrayed her lack of enthusiasm. She was trying to peer through the tight knitting of people to see her husband.

Finally, the last break in the sea of faces, and Gisō stood before her. Captain Long saluted the Fire Lord, and then Katara, before backing away.

Katara felt naked. Lana had also halted a respectful distance away, and now the Fire Lady stood alone to face her Lord.

But something in the air crackled, and Katara finally raised her sapphire eyes to meet his. He was nodding at Captain Long, and when his eyes fell upon her, a single heartbeat passed between their connection and the slow, melting smile that spread over his face like the rising sun spreads over a new day. His left cheek dimpled, completing the boyish image his hair had been framing. And, then, to further Katara's unending joy, Gisō stepped down from his dais, and drew her into his arms.

"I've missed you more than I can say, my love," he murmured against her hair. Katara squeezed her eyes shut to blink back thankful tears. She pressed her face into his chest, finding strength and relief in the gesture. Her body went languid, and she ignored the cooing whispers rolling amongst their people. She was home, and it finally felt as it should.

Many savory seconds passed as Katara and Gisō held each other. Gisō was the one to break, gently easing her back so he could look at her. His smile was still in evidence. Katara returned it.

"I missed you, too, Gisō." The admission was barely a breath, but it held nothing but truth. Katara had missed him. The whole past week had been spiritually and emotionally riotous for the young Fire Lady. Her doubts of Gisō's love and devotion had been horrible enemies prowling the shadows. But, here, with his large, protective hands on her arms, Katara felt the doubts flee. It was a remarkable change.

The moment of private reunion was stopped by Sokka's solemn approach. Katara slid to Gisō's left, placing a protective arm around his waist. She tried not to giggle as Sokka saluted to her and her husband. He struck a comical devotee.

Gisō, though, while perhaps surprised at Sokka's presence, handled his brother-in-law with all the tact needed for such a task. He returned the salute with the respectful bow due to a relative and son of a fellow ruler.

"Sokka, it is an unexpected pleasure to have you here."

Katara watched the two grin rather goofily at one another before clasping wrists in the traditional Water Tribe fashion. She smiled at them both. Sokka nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure Katara's trip was smooth. I hope that my presence here for a few weeks won't be bothersome."

"Of course not," Katara's husband shook his head. "You are family, and as such, you will always find room under our roofs."

Greetings accomplished, Gisō turned to give instructions to the entourage. The crowd began melting away at his swift commands. Katara cleared her throat as one figure remained, awkwardly fussing with his crates.

"Fire Lord Gisō," she began formally, "I'd like to present to you firebending master, Zuko. While I was home, traders from around the world gathered to barter and exchange their talents and wares. Master Zuko's artwork is among the most flawless I have ever seen. I wished for him to accompany us so that you might see for yourself. An artist is just what the palace needs."

The quaint introduction caused a curious little chain of events to occur. Zuko seemed to be hot under the collar at being examined by the Fire Lord. He managed a deep salute and nod, but it was clear he felt rather ill at ease: he kept his scar averted as much as he could. He seemed loath to let the royal man see. Gisō, on the other hand, stared at Zuko with arched eyebrows and an interested light in his eyes.

"An artist, you say? Tell me, Master Zuko, what sort of medium do you utilize? I'm a fan of watercolor, myself."

The slight note of sarcasm that laced "Master Zuko" made Katara wince. But if it bothered Zuko, the firebender—thankfully—did not show it. Instead, he straightened and looked at the Fire Lord steadily.

"My Lord, I use my bending to create art in the form of glasswork. I have many pieces to show you, at your convenience." Zuko bowed again.

Gisō had been staring avidly at Zuko's scar the entire time Zuko had been speaking. Katara gritted her teeth, praying that he wouldn't say something smart. Her husband wasn't one to ridicule people, especially new acquaintances, but something about the artist seemed to antagonize Gisō. Katara could not tell what it was.

Soon, however, Gisō relaxed and stopped focusing on Zuko's abnormality. "I should be glad to see artwork so highly praised by my wife. Why don't you bring a selection to the welcoming feast tonight? My servants will guide you to your accommodations and then to the event. Welcome to the Fire Nation, Master Zuko."

* * *

The palanquin ride to the palace, the subsequent journey through halls and staircases Katara had not seen in days, and the arrival to her and Gisō's private apartments happened in a chaotic whirl of color: mostly red. Katara barely had time to register her surroundings before Gisō was pulling her over the elaborately stitched carpets and shiny marble floors to their large bed.

She laughed as she tumbled into the silk sheets and plush pillows. She kept a hold on Gisō's arms and pulled him down over her, relishing his weight pressing her down. His lips found hers messily, hungrily. Finally, he could act without prudence.

Katara's heart raced, and her mind flickered through delicious images of the nights following their wedding; when they could not keep their hands away from each other. Gisō cornering her in a deserted hallway, Katara slipping flirtatious fingers over his arms and back just before an important meeting, Gisō's own, vengeful fingers creeping along her thighs under the council table…

Katara moaned when Gisō nipped at her lips. His hands caressed her sides and waist as he kissed her jaw and throat. His warm breath made her shiver, and she tried vainly to press her hips against him. His body held her in place.

Her lips worked against his, and her fingers fumbled at his robes and curled through his hair. His lips had reached the dip of her gown's collar. Ghostly kisses fluttered over her chest. Katara's breathing hitched, and then a streak of pain sparked over her skin. She cried out. Gisō pulled back, alarmed.

"I'm sorry, what happened?"

Katara was feeling along her chest. And then she giggled. "Your fire emblem pricked me."

Gisō glanced down at the ruthless little pin and scowled. "Allow me to remove this insidious thing." He unpinned the brooch and threw it somewhere over his shoulder. Katara's protests were cut off most satisfactorily.

* * *

Katara dozed, half cognizant of the area around her. The silk sheets were cool on her naked skin, but the air was still warm from Gisō's ardor. She nuzzled into the blankets, sighing. Happiness winked at the fading edges of her consciousness, and sweet lips tickled her shoulders.

"It's time to prepare for the feast, my turtleduck," Gisō's voice rumbled down her spine, jolting Katara awake. She rolled over to face him. "But right here is so much more appealing."

Gisō murmured in assent as he kissed her neck. "You are correct—I much prefer this feast." His teeth grazed her ear. Katara flushed. She cupped her husband's cheek, directing his mouth to hers.

"Even so, I suppose we should go be Fire Lord and Lady."

Gisō grumbled. "If we must." He rolled over and sat up, stretching. Katara admired his back and shoulders.

"Is the feast going to be very large?" She asked, stifling a yawn.

"No, just the usual retinue with the addition of Sokka, the Avatar, and your artist."

Katara sidled up behind her husband and placed her chin on his shoulder. "I hope that everything was calm and perfect for you while I was away."

She hoped that her tone and phrasing wouldn't frustrate him. It seemed to work, for he turned toward her and kissed her lips. "It was. The Avatar discussed things with me, and we should have everything under control very soon. I trust you won't mind, but I hoped you would condescend to hearing his stories tomorrow rather than this evening. Less prying ears that way."

Katara nodded. "That's fine. I'm happy to hear what he has to say. I hope I can help."

Gisō nodded absentmindedly and stood up. "I'm interested in your artist friend. What's his story?" He grinned crookedly at her. "You can give me the abridged version for time's sake."

Katara wrinkled her nose at his teasing and stood to dress as well. "He's just what he says he is. He grew up with his uncle because his parents died when he was very small."

Gisō made a noncommittal noise of what may have been sympathy. Katara continued while she sifted through her bags. "He learned his skills from his uncle, who had trained in a low branch of the Fire Nation military. Master Zuko chose to employ his talents toward creating art. He is self-taught in that respect. He did learn from other artists as the pair travelled, though."

Katara watched her husband through her mirror. She was putting on the earrings; they finally complimented her gown. Gisō looked satisfied with the story. He was nodding and coming over. He eyed the earrings.

"Are those from this Master Zuko?"

"Yes," Katara played with one of the pieces. "Do you like them?"

"Yes. I'm surprised that you purchased Fire Nation things while at home, is all."

His tone had sharpened just enough that only Katara would have been able to detect the edge. Her lips lifted artfully. "I wanted something that reminded me of you."

Her husband's hands loosened around their places on her shoulders. He beamed. "Of course, my turtleduck."

"Speaking of turtleducks," Katara moved on, pleased to get away from the earrings. "How has Himitsu been? I have a gift for her. And what of the patients?"

"Well enough, I imagine. I haven't been able to spend much time in the infirmary this past week. I have not heard anything distressing, so I picture everything is much the same." He donned his robes and emblem.

"I brought Spirit Water back," Katara motioned at the little vial she had carefully removed before her romp with Gisō. The little bottle glinted importantly in the torchlight. Her husband smiled.

"Himitsu will be glad to have it."

The conversation dwindled. Katara finished scooping her hair into place, glad that Lana would be able to do it more professionally starting tomorrow. She listened as Gisō finished his preparations, wishing that the falter in words hadn't happened so soon. They had made it pretty far, astonishingly enough, but Katara wanted more. She at least wished the silences between them weren't oddly strained. Silences between husband and wife should be comfortable and calming.

A knock at the door kindly broke the tension.

"We will be right out, thank you," the Fire Lord called. He glanced at Katara. "Shall we, my Lady?"

Katara mutely reached for his arm.

* * *

Katara and Gisō encountered Aang and Sokka outside of the doors to the dinner hall. The two were talking excitedly together, laughing loudly and frequently. Gisō hailed them.

"I hope you aren't boring Sokka with trivial nonsense, Avatar Aang," Katara's husband chuckled as they approached. Aang's eyes dimmed a little, but he kept his grin.

"Fire Lord Gisō," he greeted, bowing. Aang's attention turned to Katara, and the light reappeared in his eyes. "Fire Lady Katara," he bowed even lower.

Remembering Suki's advice, Katara stopped herself from responding overly informally to Aang's presence. She was delighted to see him, but she didn't want to ruin her good fortune with Gisō. She stepped forward and clasped Aang's hands between her own and bowed.

"Aang, it is truly wonderful to see you. I hope you've been well." She stepped back to her husband's side and took his arm once more.

Not noticing anything amiss with her behavior, Aang was nodding rapidly. "Most things are well. The Fire Lord told me that you wish to hear about my more pressing issues tomorrow evening?"

Katara saw that Aang knew this was Gisō's concession. Katara wanted to know what the problems were before she even left on her trip, but Aang had become discreet enough not to mention how familiar with Katara's personality he was in front of her husband.

"Yes, tomorrow would be excellent."

"Good. I will be available whenever you wish to begin."

They all stood, quiet for just a second too long.

"Are we just going to look at the door leading to the food, or are we going to go in?"

Aang burst out laughing.

* * *

Fire Nation feasts were much calmer than the Water Tribe ones. At least, the Fire Lord's feasts were calmer. Katara wasn't sure how the rest of the Nation behaved at dinner parties. She found herself wanting to find out.

The thought jolted her back to reality.

She was bored. She hoped that her momentary lapse of awareness hadn't been witnessed by anyone especially important. She ran a cautionary eye over the guests. Most were too keen on their dinner and neighbors to be bothered with anything as silly as the Fire Lady's dazed and confused expression.

Everyone but Zuko. He was smirking and shaking his head at her. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he sipped his soup from his seat diagonal her. His hair was combed into straight neatness; a little cowlick stuck up in the back. He was dressed smartly in black and gold.

Katara averted her eyes to glower at her own soup. The annoyingly familiar insurgence of emotions Zuko caused was rocketing through her body. First, her heart gave a ridiculous flutter and her face warmed. And then her anger roared in, a vengeful wave of frustration bent on hushing her silly heartbeat.

She glanced back up. A golden wink.

Willing her blush to go away, Katara cast another surreptitious glance around her guests. When she was sure no one was watching she stuck her tongue out at Zuko. A mock horrified face answered her childish display. She snorted into her soup spoon.

"Katara, are you quite alright?" Gisō regarded her with a frown.

Katara fought not to burst into obscene laughter. This was entirely unbecoming of a Fire Lady. She forced her lips into a straight line. "Yes, dear. I was suppressing a sneeze. Excuse me."

Her husband thus pacified, Katara risked one more look at her instigator.

Zuko was failing to conceal his hilarity behind a black cloth napkin.

* * *

The final course arrived. A bowl of frosted sweet cream was delivered to everyone at the table. Katara smiled at her portion, knowing that it was a treat catered for her and Sokka. Her brother knew it, too, judging by his cry of glee. Gisō grinned at his brother-in-law and toasted the arrival of both him and Katara. A smattering of applause followed his cheerful words.

"And now, while we're enjoying our dessert, I would like to turn your attention to the center of the room. My wife has so considerately brought with her an artist of, in her words, unrivaled talent. Ladies and Gentlemen, Master Zuko."

Katara spooned some of the cream into her mouth while Zuko stood and walked to the center of the room. Numerous servants were now wheeling a few of the artist's crates toward him. Zuko bowed around the room as the boxes were opened. The servants bowed as they retreated.

"Thank you, Fire Lord Gisō, for your gracious hospitality; and thank you to Lady Katara, for the opportunity to show my work." He bowed once more.

Katara noticed that Zuko's voice changed as much as his mood did. Like at Hakoda's table, Zuko now spoke with clarity. His confidence and purpose lent strength to his cadence. The rasp was not in evidence. Katara realized that the man's huskier tone signified either anger or vulnerability.

"I would like to show you three pieces, this evening. Each has its own story, but I'd like the esteemed audience to find their own meanings in the art."

Gisō murmured in his throat, and Katara could tell he was impressed in spite of himself. She ate more of her dessert and listened to Zuko's continuing explanations.

"The first piece is a simple one," Zuko announced as he lifted a not so simple necklace from its hiding spot. Several gasps and excited twitters erupted from around the table.

"The man is good," Sokka said, stroking his chin. Katara rolled her eyes at the comment.

"This necklace is a combination of high-fired porcelain and red jasper. The jasper serves to bring out the otherwise inconspicuous veins in the porcelain."

Zuko held the two ends of the necklace between pinched thumbs and forefingers. Every female eye was on it. Katara watched Zuko's face.

"This piece took me a few days to finish. Porcelain is tricky to work with. Extremely high temperatures are necessary to ensure success." He smiled serenely at the ladies nearest him. "I would pass this around, but too much handling could damage it." The women nodded, understanding.

The necklace disappeared back into its casing. The happy muttering continued. The next piece was a curving dragon breathing fire. The men in the room paid more attention.

"This piece took me hours to finish. That might not seem so bad in comparison to the necklace, but keep in mind the necklace was done in sections. This one, and many others in my collection, is accomplished—or occasionally scraped—in one go."

Gisō had leaned forward to better see the figurine. Zuko brought it forward and placed it before the Fire Lord.

The little dragon was emerald green, each scale outlined in gold. The wings were golden and unfurled, as though it were about to take flight. Crimson fire came from the mouth.

"Do you paint your details, Master Zuko?"

The title had lost its sarcastic tinge. Gisō was in awe. Katara felt triumphant.

"In this case, yes, I painted the piece. The dragon is, like the necklace, a combination of elements. The body is porcelain. I should explain that porcelain is a type of clay work that fires to a glass-like finish. I painted the clay green and gold during the in-between phases of the work."

Gisō nodded and ran a delicate finger over the dragon's wings. "And the wings?"

"The wings are simply yellow glass. Like the flames, I just made sure to follow certain processes to achieve the different colors."

Zuko waited until Gisō gestured before he removed the dragon and placed it back in the box. He contemplated the third and final box for a moment. He turned back to the royal pair. "I may need assistance in presenting this one. Could Lady Katara aide me?"

Katara put her spoon down and stood. Already her face was flushed. She stepped down from the dais, knowing amber eyes were glued to her back. She kept her own on the man before her. A beseeching smile softened his pink lips. His scarred eye was an amused slit. Katara reached his side and turned to face the audience. A light sheen of sweat spread over her arms and neck.

Zuko was talking, describing the last piece, but Katara heard only a hum. His nearness was exact and overwhelming. Katara willed her flippant rage to rush in; her heart was pounding.

Zuko gave her a quizzical look before reaching into the box. Out came a stupendous sun catcher.

"This, as you may guess, is a sun catcher." He carefully handed the end he was holding over to Katara, who took it in firm fingers. She held it away from her and stared.

It was similar in shape to the one he had given her back in the Water Tribe. Tear drops and ovals hung at different lengths from a central system of cords that reminded Katara of puppet controls. In these shapes, however, was a different story.

It was the Epic of Aang. Each piece showcased a different aspect of the Avatar's journey to learning his elements. Katara felt breathless as little red and yellow figures of Aang spun in front of her. Aang mastering earth, fire, and water. Aang flying on Appa. Aang flying on his glider. Aang glowing, the Avatar state achieved.

Zuko placed his hands forward and produced a small ball of flames to mimic the sun's rays. The colors magnified. Katara looked up to where Aang was seated. The boy—for Aang would always be the small boy Katara and Sokka had helped when they were all children—was staring at the sun catcher in rapture. It was clear that seeing his life encased in glass was an honor to him. As an airbender, Aang was supposed to virtually shun physical connections to the material world. But even the most ambitious monk would be hard pressed to look at this with indifference.

Zuko was speaking again. "The Avatar's greatness is known worldwide. It was my wish to immortalize his deeds in this lifetime, to the best of my ability."

Polite applause followed the conclusion of his words. Zuko was gazing at sun catcher, answering questions…asking questions…?

"Katara?" A rasping voice meant something…

Katara heard smashing glass somewhere off in the palace and people shouting before she collapsed.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: First, I want to thank everyone for being patient these past two weeks. It wasn't my intention to leave you all with a cliffhanger like that, I promise! While I'm still not where I wish to be with my chapters, I'm posting this one because I said I'd only skip one week of updating this time, and meant to keep that promise. Writing has been tough for me recently, but I hope that this chapter makes up for the wait.**

**Thank you, Sarah, for editing.**

**Chapter 10**

Blurred faces and heat plagued Katara's mind and body for the hours she lay in half-consciousness. She thought she saw flames, which would account for the sweat running over her cheeks. Amber eyes blinked at her through the smoke, but when she looked again, they were replaced by golden ones.

When she finally forced herself awake, the yellow eyes were searching her face worriedly.

Himitsu broke into a relieved smile and cupped Katara's face in her hand. Katara registered shifting shadows to her left. She turned her head, wincing at the ache in her neck. Gisō stood beside her, looking down at her with wide eyes.

"Katara?"

Her name. She winced again at the sudden sound. Gisō knelt down and took her hands in his own. "Katara," he tried again, quieter than before. "How are you feeling?"

Katara swallowed against the desert in her throat. Himitsu held something to her lips and she drank greedily. She coughed. "I'm warm."

Gisō appeared to sag. "The fever. It broke about an hour ago; you're going to be alright now, love."

"I was sick?"

At the question, Gisō's face went rigid and he stood. Katara watched him pace around the room. She belatedly noticed Lana perched on a stool in the corner near some of Himitsu's medical supplies. The maid was silently crying, but there was a small smile on her face. Katara nodded gently.

Gisō continued walking back and forth. They were all in the royal bedchamber. Himitsu must have been summoned from across the palace. Katara rubbed her silk sheets between her fingers, oddly amused with the vanity of her sickbed.

"What happened?" She asked again. Himitsu wasn't looking at her. Lana's head was bowed. Finally, Gisō came back to her side.

"You were poisoned."

Silence followed the revelation. Katara blinked at her companions. Lana squirmed on her seat. Katara felt the blood drain from her face. "Who?"

Her husband's face became even grimmer. Katara regained control of her limbs all at once and began struggling to rise. Himitsu reached out to stop her. "Who poisoned me, Gisō?"

The Fire Lord held her gaze for a few seconds longer before he averted his glare. "We do not know."

Katara ignored his begrudging tone and collapsed back into her pillows. Her head and heart were pounding in equal measure. Himitsu clucked in a motherly fashion as she rearranged the blankets. Katara set herself to breathing deeply and waited for her husband to go on.

"The Avatar and Sokka are taking troops around the palace now. They've been through the kitchens twice and have apprehended the cook and serving crew for questioning." Gisō remained standing and crossed his arms. "I've also commanded your precious artist to be guarded until we might interrogate him."

Katara's nostrils flared. "Nonsense. What reason could Zuko have for poisoning me?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

Katara opened her mouth to deliver a quick rebuttal, but her mind rebelled against her intent. She realized, horrifically, that she couldn't answer truthfully. She loathed Gisō's triumphant expression.

"Honestly, Katara, what do you really know about the man? Some sad back story? In fact, _Master_ Zuko is very lucky that I had the guards placed on him so soon after you collapsed, because I might have done something impulsive."

Katara lay in non-ambulatory agony. She desperately wished to rise and strike the violent sneer off the Fire Lord's face. Her beastly husband ignored her silent fuming. "Even so, I must consent that it is highly unlikely that your _honored guest_ owned the hand that spilt the poison. There wasn't nearly enough of that already weak substance in the cream to kill you. Zuko is far cleverer than that, I think."

"You might as well put your gavel down," Katara spat sarcastically. "There will be no judgment until proof is found, and I am well enough to preside."

Both Lana and Himitsu had retreated neatly to the end of the ornate bed stand, but Katara did not pay them any mind. Gisō was smirking nastily at her, the angelic dimple a meager memory. "Oh, I will be dropping the gavel. And very soon."

Icy dread spread over the recumbent Fire Lady. She shivered fiercely as her fever-exhausted body reacted. She remembered teasing winks and covered laughter. "You can't sentence an innocent man."

Gisō was straightening his sleeves which had become lopsided in his wrath. "Oh, I think you'd find I can do a lot of things."

He was turning to leave when Katara remembered the ship. "I have information that might identify the assassins."

Gisō's bronze eyes flashed. "And it is?"

"On the ship, a man called Zhao—he was sneaking around outside my room."

Her husband paled so drastically that his lips looked almost blue. He stumbled toward the bed. "Why did no one tell me this? Captain Long will have me to answer to."

"Do not blame Captain Long for my discretion. I did not tell you anything because, for one, you were distracting, and two, nothing happened. I simply saw him looking through my window when I woke up from a nap. He was sent away after the ship landed and told not to bother me anymore."

Great agitation marked Gisō's movements as he took Katara's confession in. "You are certain that he might have something to do with your poisoning?"

"No, but he's a much more likely candidate than Zuko. They don't even know each other. I suggest you find him and his sister."

Her husband spontaneously grasped her limp hand. "But how," he pleaded, "How do you know that Zuko isn't connected to this?"

Katara felt alarmed as she looked at her hand where it disappeared in Gisō's. She couldn't answer honestly, because her answer would only condemn Zuko more in the eyes of her jealous husband. She could not admit that she did not think Zuko capable of murder because she truly believed otherwise…and because she could not let Gisō know just how much time she had spent with the other man.

She pursed her lips. "I don't. I can only say that Zhao and his sister carry a much more sinister air than the artist."

Katara knew, deep down, that Gisō sensed the half lie. But her husband merely nodded and dropped her hand.

"Lana," he snapped over his shoulder.

Lana scampered nervously forward. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Call the guard in."

Lana vanished only to reappear a few seconds later with Cale. The boy looked years older. His eyes were bloodshot and his fingers gripped his sword mercilessly with white-knuckled anxiety. He swept a scared eye over Katara and sighed in relief.

"Soldier, I want you to assemble a small group and find the man and woman from the ship. Zhao. I trust you know whom I mean."

Cale affirmed the Fire Lord's words and rushed from the room. Katara's husband shot her one more mixed look. "I'm going to find your brother. Get some rest." And then he was gone.

The toxic atmosphere gusted from the room with his departure. The three women sighed as one. A sheepish giggle tumbled from Lana's lips. Himitsu busied herself fetching more water for Katara while the latter watched. Attempting to temporarily forget recent events, Katara beckoned Lana forward.

"Can you please retrieve Himitsu's gift from my bags, Lana?"

The maid curtseyed and went to the bags. Himitsu looked on with reluctant interest from her spot across the room. Katara grinned when Lana presented the gift to the nurse.

A reprimanding eyebrow arched when Himitsu looked once more at Katara. Katara shook her head, telling her nurse that there was no other choice but to open and accept the little surprise. Himitsu heaved a sigh and glanced heavenward. But then she regarded the package a little excitedly, and set to work splitting the wax. When the red cloth fell away, Katara relished the awe on her friend's face.

The little turtleduck once again looked as if it were about to quack and swim through the air. Himitsu walked to Katara's side and sat on the bed without taking her eyes off the little glass bird cupped in her palms. The nurse carefully transferred it to one hand so she could trace the tortoise shell with a curious finger. Then she turned the piece over and admired the faint lines that gave the glass a slightly feathered appearance. Her thumb brushed over Zuko's signature, and she looked at Katara. Her smile held all the thanks she could not speak. Katara felt weightless with appreciation: Zuko had certainly suggested the right figurine for mild Himitsu.

"You'd like Zuko," Katara told her.

A sharp, remonstrating glance warned Katara that she was on dangerous waters. It was loud and clear that her friend found Katara's acquaintance with the artist edging on inappropriate. Katara waved her hand to push the silent protest to the side.

"Zuko's art will liven up the palace," she continued nonchalantly. There was no reason why she should not talk about the art; that was why she had invited Zuko. No one could blame her for wanting to expand the palace's collection.

Himitsu nodded reluctantly, still captivated by the turtleduck. Katara ventured further. "I would like you to meet him. Once this ordeal is taken care of, anyway. He helped me choose your gift."

The nurse remained impassive. Katara leaned back in her pillows and closed her eyes, settled in her goal to introduce the two. It would be good for both of them, she thought idly as she began to doze. Zuko should make friends while he was here; it wouldn't do for the man to be solitary and depressed while he remained. His nearly perpetual scowl needed replacing. The soft smile that tentatively peeked out occasionally gave his face a boyish glow…like he had been rejuvenated with Spirit Water…

Katara's eyes flew open. "Himitsu!"

The nurse had gone about her duties while Katara had been on the verge of sleep. When the woman cried out, she had jumped. Now she rushed over.

"Did you use the Spirit Water on me?" Katara was casting her eyes wildly around the room, trying to locate the little vial that had been sitting on the nightstand. It was no longer in sight. "It was for your other patients. I should have given it to you right away…I was so selfish to be home—Gisō…"

But Himitsu was shaking her head quickly, and Lana was trying to explain. The maid was holding the vial in her hands. Katara relaxed.

"My Lady, the Fire Lord wished for Himitsu to use the Spirit Water on you, but you were already on the mend. I believe we all had forgotten about it in our fear for you. Everything was a bit confused and hectic for a while. You slept fitfully for several hours. Once you were no longer in danger, Himitsu sneaked away and administered it to the patients. They're going to be fine."

Katara nodded her head, dazedly. "Is there any left?"

Lana confirmed that there was a few drops left in the vial before placing it in the nightstand drawer. Katara began to feel the full effect of her exhaustion once that alarm had passed. Her bones seemed to sink to the bottoms of her limbs. Her bed snuggly encased her, and her eyes fell closed. She was distantly aware of her friends watching over her.

* * *

Hours passed in soothing quiet as Katara slept away the remainder of the poison. Her head was clear when she woke in the early evening of the following day of the event. A respectful knock had eased her out of dreamless sleep, and she was pleased to find Aang and Sokka entering the room with Himitsu's permission.

"How are you feeling?" Sokka asked, dropping into the chair once occupied by Gisō. Aang sat on the floor beside him, legs crossing in lotus form. Katara greeted the two with a wide smile.

"Much, much better. Nothing hurts thanks to Himitsu."

Sokka looked over at the blushing nurse. "So you're the revered Himistu. It's very nice to meet you, finally."

Himitsu nodded a likewise. She bowed to Aang.

"Did you discover anything?" Katara inquired when the other ladies had left. She could tell by Sokka's face that they hadn't, but she wanted to hear about it anyway.

"The cook and servants claim to know nothing. We searched and searched for evidence of the poison and the assassin, but we turned up nothing. Through Lana we learned that Himitsu had identified the poison as coming from some plant not native to the Fire Nation. It's a dodgy method of offing someone at best, but the amount they used on you wasn't even enough to take down someone twice your size."

Sokka was rubbing his chin. "It makes me think, though, that they're capable. A truly novice assassin, or someone just looking to kill for no genuine reason, would probably have dumped a ton of it into your food. They wouldn't know how much was necessary to kill you. This person or these people made you very sick. I think something happened to make them hurry, and they were cut short of their goal."

Katara groaned. "So we're no closer to finding out who did it?" Sokka and Aang glumly shook their heads.

"I told Gisō what I just told you. Katara, he seems to think Zuko might have something to do with this."

"And what do you think?" She asked her brother pointedly.

Sokka thought for a few seconds. "I think that your judgment of him is good enough for me. Besides, he had dinner with us, and Dad did take to him."

Katara felt better. Somehow, knowing her older brother vouched for Zuko was more comforting than her own assuredness. "Sokka, could you hold off on writing to Dad and Suki about this? I at least want to see if we can find any answers."

Sokka nodded. "I won't say anything. I'll leave it to you. But if something else happens, I'm going to tell them." Katara agreed and thanked him. She turned to Aang. "Do you have an opinion on Zuko?"

Aang took a bit longer than Sokka to answer, but Katara figured that was due to his monk's personality. Fairness for both sides was something Aang always aspired to uphold. "I believe you and Sokka on this account. Zuko's energies are far from murderous, but he isn't incapable of killing someone. I just think when it comes to you, he wouldn't dream of something like this."

Aang cleared his throat before they could think on the last statement. "I'm afraid that your husband might look for any reason to tidy this mess up the quickest way, and I don't think he has any love for Zuko."

"This is all so overwhelming," Katara moaned into her hands. "I never should have brought Zuko. I didn't think all of this would happen. I just thought we could use his talents."

Aang's words of comfort were cut short by Gisō's entrance. "Are you well rested, my love?"

"Yes, thank you, dear." She turned her face upward for his chaste kiss. His own servant supplied a seat for him and then retreated to the door. The four considered each other while each was lost in his or her own thoughts. Katara suddenly remembered her duties.

"Aang, I would like if you were to tell us about the issues you brought forth to the Fire Lord while I was away." She shot a glance at Gisō, whose only reply was look that said: "If you must."

Aang nodded and stood. "The problems are two-fold. The first is a bit—ambiguous—so I don't expect you to think of a solution right now." He smiled gently. "Basically, associates of mine have been feeding me information about possible conspirators. There seems to be unrest, but at best, this is all underground and contained. It spreads through the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, and some of the independent nomes. There have been—whisperings—of ill nature regarding the politics governing the Fire Nation."

"Such as?"

"That's just it, we aren't certain. It's a mix of ideals, which of course has the potential to create a powder keg. There aren't any isolated incidents or even any set in stone plans. I am beginning to think, though, that the assassination attempt is connected. The rebels, if they are such, may be on the move, finally."

He looked at Gisō. "You dispatched a group to find the man you told us about, right? This Zhao?"

"Yes, I told them to look until they found anything important. I will give them another day or two and then demand news."

Aang nodded. "It's all we're able to do besides raise vigilance. More guards should be tasked to protecting the both of you until we can figure more out."

Aang's resignation saddened Katara. She knew that he would give anything to make sure she remained safe, but she also knew that there was little else they could do. She thanked him for his news and asked about the second issue.

An indistinguishable expression came over Aang's face. "That one is more cut and dry. Gisō, could you ask the guards to go retrieve our friend?"

Gisō rolled his eyes but sent the guards out. Katara frowned at Sokka, wondering what was going on. Her brother shrugged. Aang kindly alleviated her curiosity.

"We have the Blind Bandit."

"She's real."

Katara couldn't even phrase it into a question; the surprise was too great. Aang was nodding.

"Toph Beifong, alias the Blind Bandit. Wanted for insurmountable crimes, most of which include aggravated assault and robbery."

Sokka's mouth was hanging open, and Katara felt her own mirroring the unattractive motion. "She's legendary," her brother squeaked.

"Please," Gisō stood and went to the fireplace. "She's a crook who is just good at getting away."

But Toph Beifong _was_ a legend, Katara thought as she stared at Aang. Notorious as she was blind, the woman had been at large for years. It was said that she could bend the earth unlike any bender in known history. It was said that she could sense movement from miles away, just like the badger moles. It was said she could bend metal, that she could smell lies, that her parents were moles themselves. Katara sniffed. A lot of things were said. In fact, Sokka was saying them now.

"It's said she's amassed a fortune larger than any seen today, and that she hides it underground. It's said she's been stealing from nobility for ten years!"

"If that were so, she'd have been twelve years old when she got her start," Gisō said, disbelievingly. "No child is that gifted if he or she isn't the Avatar."

"I don't know if ten years is quite right," Aang conceded. "But she has been on and off the radar for at least seven. The Earth King's agents finally caught up with her in the lower rings of Ba Sing Sae. She actually didn't put up much of a fight."

Katara's remark was cut off by a sharp laugh from Gisō. "How wondrous she must be. And you really think she can bend metal? She'd have been out of any cell they put her in."

Sokka looked dejected at the insult to his not so secret hero's abilities. "Well, I'm just saying we should take care regardless of what we do or do not believe."

"Well said," Aang clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "The guards are coming now."

The little group watched as the doors swung open and a circle of armed guards entered, surrounding the Blind Bandit. Katara craned her neck to see the shackled woman, and ended up wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Toph Beifong, the poor man's fable, the peasant's champion, was a grime covered, stocky woman of about twenty-two years. Her green and cream colored shirt and pants were dirty and riddled with holes. Sightless eyes were curtained by bangs of ebony, but a headband kept the majority of her hair swept back. Her pale skin was smudged, and her bare feet were an abominable mess of dust and mud. Katara mourned her carpets; she had a sneaking suspicion that Toph's appearance couldn't be purely blamed on a few days in a cell.

No one spoke while they studied her. The Bandit, herself, broke the silence.

"And what do you four have to say?"

Sokka gasped excitedly. Toph's ability to register that there were four new people apparently asserted all he had heard of the criminal as stone cold fact. He was practically swooning. Katara put her head in her palm.

The Bandit smirked in Sokka's direction. "One of you is glad to see me, at least." Her eyes went to Aang. "And how bout you, Twinkle Toes? Did you miss me?"

Sokka was eating it up. Before he could launch into an inappropriate interview, Katara addressed Toph.

"Do you know where you are?"

Toph turned her uncanny eyes toward Katara and shifted her weight. "The Fire Palace, judging by the over-priced rugs I've been stepping on."

Katara eyed the flippant girl cautiously. She imagined she could hear the girl sniffing the air, and she shook herself.

"Why are you so nervous? I know I'm pretty awe-inspiring, but I don't bite."

"You're wanted for so many crimes, we're trying to decide where to begin," Gisō deadpanned. Toph laughed.

"How about with the heist I pulled off two weeks ago in Ba Sing Sae," the woman broke off her fit of giggles with a sigh. "It was a good one."

"I was just thinking," Gisō continued as though the Bandit hadn't interrupted. "It's rather strange that she should turn up and be captured so soon before Katara's incident."

Sokka's adoring eyes went cold. "You're right."

Toph, affected by her only fan's sudden hostility, held up her shackled hands in submission. "Hey, now, I might be a world class bender and master thief, but I'm no assassin. I've heard about what's happened. It's got nothing to do with me."

The resulting quiet seemed to unnerve the woman. She was shuffling unsurely on her feet. "Sugar Queen," she looked at Katara, "You seem like you're pretty level-headed. You wouldn't make a snap judgment, would you? You don't even know me."

Each word heralded a spike of panic and anger as Toph spoke. Her feet were pointing in Katara's direction; her eyes were everywhere at once. Katara hesitated.

A loud pounding signaled a new arrival. Ty Lee, who had led the guards accompanying Toph, waited for a nod from Gisō before opening the wooden double doors. Zuko waited in the archway, flanked by two more perturbed sentinels.

It was a lasting image, to see him, chin and eyes raised as he strode forward and took in the opulence of the room. He was in his standard attire; his hair was no longer smoothed. He seemed to bristle with lack of sleep, and his veins stood out in corded alertness along his arms. His jaw clenched, and then he looked at Katara.

His tired eyes bore into her, and Katara experienced a striking flash of memory…hawkish eyes wide with shock and arms around her before she hit the floor…

"Who's the stud?" Toph tilted her head in Zuko's direction, hastily redirecting the caustic atmosphere away from her. Zuko frowned, cheeks reddening.

"Excuse me?"

Toph held her hand out in front of her as if inspecting her nails. A strangely mischievous grin was spreading across her lips. "I assumed you were quite the knock-out, considering how Sugar Queen's heart is practically exploding."

Four sets of eyes snapped to where Katara stood, but the Fire Lady could only stare into the cloudy gaze of Toph. Fear shot up her spine while comprehension slammed into her with the force of a dragon's breath. The Bandit bared her teeth in bright grin that seemed to scream, "Gotcha."

Frantically trying to ignore Gisō's hateful eyes, Katara adopted an indifferent stance. "Do not deign to refer to me in such vulgar terms. I do not know what you're trying to infer, but I assure you, this whole situation is only upsetting me."

Cool, milky eyes went to Gisō's severe form. "Oh, I can see that."

Sokka muttered obscenities under his breath. Toph cocked her head in his direction. "What's that, Cuddly Poops?"

Katara's brother blustered incoherently until Gisō silenced them all. He looked at Aang, thoroughly finished with the proceedings. Zuko's arrival had been the final straw.

"Avatar, what do you advise we do with the crook?"

"Oh, honey, I'm no petty crook," Toph snapped back, her arrogance returned full force.

This woman was certainly wishing for death, Katara decided as she watched her husband's face turn purple with anger.

"Do you not understand who I am?" He asked in a strained voice.

"You're the Fire Lord, as far as I can tell," Toph answered, clearly bored with the dealings.

"Yes, I'm the Fire Lord, and I can have you thrown into the deepest most god-forsaken pit, and no one will ever remember the story of the silly little earthbender who stole one too many gold pieces."

Zuko's fingers twitched, and Katara intended to speak a warning as Gisō stepped closer to the earthbender. Toph tensed. "Another step, I dare you."

The sheer audacity was enough to halt the Fire Lord, and Katara could feel the rage wafting off of him. Flames licked at his fingertips.

"One more step in a room made of pure marble while threatening the world's most powerful earthbender." Toph was no longer jesting. "Seems like a pretty bone headed idea for the Fire Lord."

Her surrounding guard lowered their spears until the points were inches from her face. And the woman just smiled.

Katara determined that this would only end without bloodshed if she were the one to end it. "Everyone, breathe." She stepped as close to Toph as she could with the guards surrounding the thief. "Gentlemen, if you would please escort this criminal to one of the cells suitable for an earthbender. See that she is provided with food and treated fairly until we can go on with a proper trial."

The guards, led by Ty Lee, lowered their weapons and nodded curtly. Ty Lee signaled for them to fall into a protective stance around Toph. The woman was smirking oddly at her bare feet, and Katara had a flash of foreboding.

"Wait, just one moment." She chewed her lip as she studied the haughty earthbender, recalling tales of her prowess. Myths most of them might be, but Katara was in no mood for mistakes. "Put her in one of the artificial cells. No metal."

Toph's knowing countenance twisted into shock as if Katara had struck her.

"Oh, isn't Sugar Queen so smart," the woman snarled as the guards began marching her toward the door. "She thinks she's so clever. But she's not," Toph was shouting now as she was pushed through the double doors. "She's an open book, and I'm not the only one who knows it!"

The doors slammed.

Katara wanted the floor to open and swallow her. But, she would not give anyone in this room reason to dwell on the angry thief's words. She arranged her eyebrows into a knitted frown before turning on Zuko.

"And why, may I ask, are you here?"

Behind her, Gisō snorted. "I demanded his presence for when this ridiculous issue with the Blind Bandit was taken care of. It seems he did not think waltzing in here early would be frowned upon."

Zuko's body tensed even further. "I apologize, my Lord, I did not realize that such a petty meeting would take you all so long to finish."

The air pulsed wickedly with something unseen and dreadful. It made the hairs on Katara's neck stand on end, and she could tell that Sokka and Aang felt it too. The latter was studying Zuko closely; Sokka jumped and looked at his arms.

Gisō must have felt the oddity as well, but he only became more incited. He had nothing more to say, angered beyond fulfilling whatever goal he had had in mind regarding the firebending artist. Instead, he whisked toward the door, away from the scene, but stopped as he became level with Zuko. The two stared at each other, aggression a physical aura between them. Katara had the disturbing feeling that only Aang's steady approach was keeping the flames locked inside. Gisō spoke first.

"Listen well, artist. You are here under my wife's diplomacy, which," he threw an odious look over his shoulder at Katara, "isn't worth as much as it once was. Test my patience once more, and I guarantee more than broken glass."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, all! I'm slowly getting to my goal! Hope you enjoy the ANGST. Also, I used one of my handy dandy history links to describe Zuko's glassblowing process: shaDOTorg/bottle/datingDOThtm (obviously the DOT is the period in the address because fanfic won't let me include the link properly.)**

**Thank you, to Sarah, for editing! Love you!**

**Chapter 11**

Days and nights passed in which Katara saw very, very little of her husband.

The palace buzzed with gossip and rumors, and only Katara's presence caused the droning to subside into nervous greetings she blandly returned. No one stayed around her long when she came into a room. Among her servants, only Lana and Cale remained faithful and kind. She knew everyone else was whispering about the incident involving Toph, the Blind Bandit. The story had blown up into torrents of speculation regarding her relationships with Zuko and the Fire Lord. Katara attempted letting the petty gossip slide off her like rain, but she knew she desperately wished they'd all go back to talking about the assassination attempt. That event was now pushed aside, apparently not as important as hierarchic scandal.

A wave of anger came through Katara's veins as she walked through the gardens nearly a week after the disastrous interview with Toph. Cale's men were still searching for Zhao and his sister, but Katara knew it was a lackluster hunt at best. Even Cale could not contradict her doubts. The boy was sullen and anxious looking. She judged that he was itching to look for the pair himself, but that he trusted no one to her and Lana's protection. Katara tried not to appear ungrateful. Aside from Aang and Sokka, Lana and Cale were the closest things she had to friends; and Aang and Sokka were busy trying to keep Gisō under control.

Katara sighed and dropped bleakly onto an ornate stone bench. Beneath her favorite willow tree, Katara had pondered and rationalized all of the problems she had ever faced since moving to the Fire Palace. But, now, the fragrant, fluttering leaves hardly comforted her.

Lana and Cale remained distant while Katara studied the bold, beautiful flowers that grew neatly around her. Their distance was what kept them from being the support Katara needed. She needed closeness and reassurance, and their professional familiarity inconveniently kept them from providing this. And Himitsu…

Himitsu was the perfect solution; Katara thought as she smoothed her indigo gown and stared at the tower-framed sky above. But her inability to speak deterred Katara from seeking her help. Weakly, Katara thought she needed to hear reassurance. She needed to hear that nothing was going to happen to her marriage. That nothing was going to happen to Zuko or Toph.

She didn't want Toph to be harmed. The terrible woman had started these rumors with her reckless, insinuating shouts, but Katara did not feel hatred toward the Bandit. No, what she felt now, what she had felt since that night was cold fear.

Gisō was not sleeping in their room. He did not smile, he did not speak, and he did not acknowledge her with anything but curt nods. The rickety bridge they had built on her first night home was now a splintered crush of ruins between them. Katara dropped her face to her hands.

The fear clenched in her bowels, yet Katara was not scared for herself. Grimly, she recalled Gisō's parting warning to Zuko after Toph had been hauled away. _Test my patience once more, and I guarantee more than broken glass._

The intelligent thing to do would be to send Zuko away. Katara was a little surprised the man hadn't just taken himself off, if she were being honest with herself. He had no obligations to remain, and she knew that Zuko was not the sort to patiently wait out royal drama. Why he was staying put caused the Fire Lady some confusion. She tried to gather resolve enough to tell him to go…but she couldn't.

Despite the fear curdling in her gut, Katara could not bring herself to tell Zuko to get out. Keeping him near was the only thing that her frantic mind could find relatively calming. Her conscience was eating her alive with guilt over it. Sending Zuko away would make him safer from Gisō and, knowing her husband as well as she did, Katara felt certain Gisō wouldn't go after the artist. Out of sight, out of mind…

"You are a selfish, selfish person, Katara," she sneered at her feet.

A bird burst out of the branches above her, trilling loudly. She watched it arc upward and over one of the black marble statues decorating the landscape. It disappeared over one of the palace walls. Sighing, Katara rose. Lana and Cale followed suit from where they had been whispering intimately among the roses. An idea flashed across her mind.

"Cale, Lana, why don't you two go take a walk. You deserve time to yourselves, and I really don't think I'll come to any harm strolling through the palace."

Lana and Cale were reluctant. They asserted that it was no trouble, accompanying Katara to her destinations, and for a moment, Katara knew that her intended objective would not bother the two in the slightest. But she wanted to be by herself for a little while. She shook her head, adding jokingly, "I promise not to eat any frosted cream."

Lana and Cale forced smiles, but finally let her go. They did threaten that they'd come looking for her if she were not seen by either of them in the next three hours. Free of the pair's well-meaning, but exasperating eyes, Katara headed off to the old, obscure court yards behind the infirmary.

The set of mirror image courtyards had once been boisterous and full of life. Before Gisō's reign, during the lordship of the family of Ozai, the open spaces of elaborately decorated limestone had boasted salubrious qualities for the mending patients at the infirmary. During the reign of Ozai's branch of the family, Katara recalled her history lessons, the infirmary had had more funds and influence within the Fire Nation. Everyone, from the sickest old to the young with common sniffles, sought out the healing powers that had worked in the fine old institution. Now, only the ones who remembered the greatness of the healers there still came for medicine and attention.

The war, like it had everything else, had left the patients' courtyards and infirmary as crumbling shadows of their former selves. Only weeds and crawling ivies covered the ruinous fragments of the spaces once occupied by the patients of the hospital. The infirmary itself fared slightly better. Katara had made sure it had been renovated enough to accommodate those who still sought the Fire Palace nurses when she became Fire Lady.

It had been in those first insecure weeks as Gisō's wife that Katara had met Himitsu and had forged a relationship with the older lady she had never been able to share with her own mother. Katara stared up at the arching windows of the strong building, briefly overcome with silent gratefulness. She pledged to visit Himitsu today, after her first task was taken care of. She turned her attention to the overgrown path to the courtyards.

This was where Zuko resided.

Katara tried to ignore the harassed frustration niggling in her chest. Gisō's servants had probably thought putting the artist here had been funny. There were rooms, certainly, but nothing habitable. Katara strode along the path, brushing vines aside with her hands. She'd ask Zuko if he wanted different apartments…

A lurching sensation in her stomach caused her feet to falter at the opening. Katara chewed her lip as she regarded the dark space beyond. She could feel a faint heat escaping through the doorway. Maybe Zuko was working and this wasn't the best time to visit. Before Katara could hasten away, however, a tinkling of glass drew her forward.

Brown leaves dotted the walkway and clung to her trailing skirts as she proceeded carefully. The heat intensified the closer she came to the end of the tunnel formed by gnarled tree branches. A faint sweat broke out over the back of Katara's neck. The sounds of glass being moved became louder, and under it, Katara could hear the crackling of a large fire. Emerging from the shadowy tunnel, Katara blinked in the sudden brightness.

The sun shone down, hot in its afternoon power. The infirmary had blocked the worst of its sweltering heat from Katara's gardens, but no such shade was present in the courtyard in which Zuko kept his equipment. The columned walls to the sides were overrun with shrubs and weeds, but did little to cool the atmosphere. The angry fire roaring in the center made the place feel like a gigantic kiln. Katara felt more sweat trickle down her temples.

Just beyond the roaring groan of the nearly white fire, stood Zuko, his figure wavering in the heat of the inferno.

From the waist up, Katara blushingly realized, the man was bare. His pale skin flickered through the haze, and Katara began her way around the fire. Zuko's eyes were fixed on the object resting in the flames, but now his head turned, and his sharp eyes watched her approach curiously. His once rigid pose had now sunk into his usual, languorous slump; and his somber countenance morphed into a smirk. His bare arms propped him against an old broken column, his shoulders the only bit of him with any tension. Katara felt her eyes linger at his collar bones. The warmth increased in her cheeks and she forced herself to look to his face. The path her eyes took proved interesting in an anatomical fashion. Sweat slid down Zuko's neck and chest, and Katara's mind supplied the image of melting marble.

She met his mismatched eyes wordlessly. Zuko only slightly inclined his head, and Katara knew that that was the closest thing to a bow she was going to get from the man today. She could tell he was in a rebellious mood.

"Hello," she tried, demurely.

A broad smile replaced Zuko's smirk, and she could feel the blood boiling beneath her skin. She couldn't fully blame the blaze to her left, unfortunately.

"Afternoon." They stared at each other a little longer. "I'm surprised you are here without babysitters."

"I got rid of them."

Katara clamped her mouth shut as her embroiled mind registered what the phrasing sounded like. Zuko's eyebrows shot toward his bangs clinging wetly to his forehead. Katara cleared her throat and continued, choosing to ignore her slip. "I was wondering how you were finding your apartments."

Zuko's eyebrow remained cynical as he looked around the setting. "They're…" he caught Katara's face and laughed. "They're completely lousy."

The thick air imagined between them slackened instantly. Katara grinned and felt her bones relax. "They're terrible, I agree." She walked over and seated herself neatly on the low wall next to Zuko. "I actually came here to offer you a different place to stay."

Zuko retrained his eye on the fire. "I might take you up on that, but I'll need a day or two to prepare. I'm in the middle of something," he gestured at the thing gleaming in the flames.

Katara stood and walked a little closer, peering through the snapping flames. "What is it?"

"Nothing fancy," Zuko replied. "Just an abstract figure. I was actually about to start a bottle, if you wanted to watch. That thing won't be done for a while."

Katara nodded but continued watching the glittering thing. She started making out curves and points, and wondered what the finished product would look like. She turned back to Zuko. He sat up straighter and looked away quickly. Katara gave a small smile. "I'd love to see you make something."

He looked relieved as he stood to his full height and disappeared into one of the side halls. Katara waited patiently, still enamored with the object forming in the fire. It didn't take Zuko long to return. He carried with him a long stick.

Katara watched carefully as he approached the fire pit and inserted one of the ends of the stick into the flames. The end dipped into a brick encasement she hadn't noticed. Zuko began to spin the staff very slowly in his hands.

"This is honestly one of the hardest parts. You have to spin slowly enough and carefully enough, otherwise the initial glass bulb won't come out even."

Katara watched the rod turn, intrigued when a glob of glass began to stick and grow at the end. Zuko continued his lecture while he worked.

"Non-benders and most firebenders who work with glass have to return the glass to the flames throughout the process. I've developed a different method."

He sounded acutely pleased with himself. Katara fought to keep her eyes from rolling. It wasn't too difficult; the process was fascinating to witness.

After a few moments in the heat, Zuko pulled the glob out and rolled it on a slab of nearby marble.

"I have to say that all the broken columns around here are very helpful." The glass began to take a bottle-like shape. "Now I'll start giving it a more permanent shape."

Zuko lifted the growing bottle from the marble and pressed his lips to the opposite end of the stick. Katara watched as he began to blow through the long tube with strong but careful exhalations. As he spun the glass and continued blowing, Zuko placed it into a rounded mold by his feet. The bottle remained evenly spherical.

Katara's eyes shifted to Zuko's face. His eyes watched the glass forming closely, almost tenderly. His hands kept the stick spinning. She was struck by his attention: he watched the glass grow as fondly as most parents watch their children grow. It dawned her then, just how much Zuko cherished his talent. It was his life, a piece of his uncle, a tribute to art. She thrust her gaze back to the bottle, slightly overwhelmed.

After another half minute or so, Zuko attracted her attention and motioned to a pail of water. He then gave a slight nod toward the glass. Katara understood.

"A splash of water?"

Zuko hummed in assent. Katara bent some of the water onto the glass and mold. It hissed and snapped, and a fine mist of steam departed.

Zuko removed the now larger sphere of glass from the mold and began swinging it gently back and forth, all the while blowing. Katara watched the bottle gradually elongate. Zuko's brow furrowed and his breaths changed.

They didn't speed up or weaken. Katara couldn't tell exactly how they changed; she just sensed that they had. Zuko's cheeks now had a pink tinge to them.

After a few more moments of swinging the bottle, Zuko sat in a chair he had no doubt supplied himself. Katara watched as he placed the tube on the slanted arms of the seat and began rolling the whole apparatus back and forth. Zuko reached down and picked up a pair of tongs and began shaping the neck of the bottle. The glass glimmered blood red in the sunlight.

"Why is it red?" Katara asked softly as Zuko worked.

"The glass has nickel in it. Different minerals produce various colors under certain conditions."

"Like the iron in my earrings?"

Zuko stood, grinning. "Exactly."

"How is your method of bottle forming different from other artists?"

Zuko carried the blowpipe and bottle a few feet away to where a metal shelf stood. He picked up a pair of shears and cut the bottle at the neck. It detached from the blowpipe, and lay on the shelf.

"I heat the bottle while I spin it." His face held a strange mix of feelings. Katara saw that he looked at once immensely proud and also a bit sheepish. "I can breathe fire."

The image of an imposing man breathing fire beside a wrathful dragon plunged across Katara's mind. The image wavered and fluttered with the tapestry it decorated…

"Dragon breath?" She asked dazedly.

Zuko threw her a mocking look. "Hardly. It just gives my bottles something a little different."

Katara couldn't take her eyes off the man's back as he stooped over his work. Glowing in the flames, shining with sweat and satisfaction, Zuko struck her as regal, as genuine.

"Thank you for staying here," she blurted haphazardly.

Zuko's neck turned so he could look at her over his shoulder. His face was grim. "Why wouldn't I stay?"

Katara sat once more on a wall and dropped her eyes to her wringing hands. "It's just that you don't have to. With everything that's going on, with what Gisō said to you last week…"

Zuko snorted and turned around to face her. His arms crossed in front of him, and his eyes narrowed. "His threat hardly bothers me."

Katara flinched. "It should. He's the Fire Lord. He could…"

"He may be the Fire Lord in title, but I've never seen a decent leader behave like that."

Katara felt the blood rush from her face. Her skin ran cold in spite of the fire still roaring wildly next to her. "You shouldn't say things like that. Not where anyone could hear you."

Zuko eyed her intently. "You're the only one who heard me."

Katara averted her eyes. "I'm simply saying that you're free to leave, if you wish. You have no obligation to me."

"As I understood it, you wanted an artist." He sounded almost angry.

Katara shot to her feet. "I did! But not one who might be in danger. My husband is capable of anything, as much as you disbelieve that fact. He could hurt you!"

"Why are you here, then?"

"What?"

"If he is capable of anything, why are you here? He could hurt _you_."

Katara's worried expression hardened, but her words bared the faintest trace of uncertainty. "He wouldn't."

Zuko's lips thinned and he looked like he wanted to contradict her. Instead, he said, "Just be more careful. Especially when you want to be around me."

"That's just it," Katara's voice sharpened. She paced forward as Zuko began cleaning up his things. "I shouldn't have to be careful to be around you! I shouldn't have to feel guilty for visiting a friend or for enjoying his work." Katara felt her voice wavering as she became more panicky, thinking of her strained relationship with Aang. "I shouldn't have to fear that something bad might happen to you because of my husband."

Her rant and taken her into his space, but she didn't realize it until he stopped his task and faced her.

Her nose came to his chin, her eyes to his lips. Smoke had smudged his neck and jaw, she saw now that she was closer to him. She could smell it clinging to his skin and hair. She watched his jaw clench, and a muscle in his neck stood out in exasperation. She wet her lips and shifted back a step. Nervous, blue eyes met inviting, sunny ones.

"I can take care of myself, Lady."

Katara nodded and glanced away. Her eyes landed on the red bottle. "Shouldn't you finish that?"

Zuko looked at the glass and grimaced. "I waited too long to put the top on. The bottle is too cool."

Katara felt flattened. "That's the second piece I've ruined," she bemoaned.

"What do you mean?" Zuko asked as he tossed the unfinished bottle in a bin. Katara winced as she heard it shatter.

"I mean I'm so sorry I broke your sun catcher of Aang."

Zuko scoffed and waved his hand. "You think I'm upset about that?"

"Well, yes," Katara frowned in confusion. "I thought your art was everything to you."

"My art is my livelihood, but it's not…"

He trailed off and Katara attempted coaxing it out of him. Zuko became flustered and squeezed his fists shut. "It's not the most important thing in the world," he finished stubbornly.

Silence followed, save for the fire at their sides. Zuko was scuffing the gravel with his boot. Katara looked up at the dipping sun. The infirmary was finally casting its shadow over them, its large stone façade alight with the faint glow of candles. Katara smiled and looked back at Zuko.

"What?"

"There's someone I've wanted you to meet."

* * *

The dim coolness of the hospital rooms were a blessing compared to the heat of Zuko's camp. The pair sat together before a bed with a single patient as they awaited Himitsu's arrival.

Katara could sense that Zuko was uncomfortable being near someone so sick. He shifted in his seat anxiously, casting restless eyes around the room. Every so often, the golden gaze would find the girl, lying in agony under a thin sheet, and Zuko would swallow hard. Katara watched him for a few moments, before speaking.

"Are you upset that you can't do anything for her?"

Zuko started and then slumped in his seat. Far from his usual insolent pose, this stance indicated defeat. "Yes. She has a fever. I can do nothing. She is whimpering in pain. I can do nothing. She suffers, and I can do _nothing_."

His expression was aggrieved. Katara longed to comfort him. She wanted to touch him, but she could do nothing.

"Sometimes sickness like this just needs to run its course. There's very little to be done, even by the most skilled physicians and healers."

"So you just sit here and watch?" Zuko asked incredulously.

Katara looked back to the sick girl's face and held in the same frustration Zuko was feeling. "It's the least I could do, to make sure she has a friendly face to see when she wakes, and friendly hands to tend her."

She bent water from a basin on the bedside table and cloaked her hands in it. Holding her palms above the girl's face, she moved her arms back and forth. "She is a long way from being healed. Until then, I can make the process a little less painful."

She watched Zuko from under her eyelashes as she continued cooling the girl's body. His face had softened, but he still looked confused. He turned questioning eyes on her.

Katara bent the water back into the basin and sighed. "You want to know why I won't use the Spirit Water."

The girl heaved a deep breath in her delirium, and then fell asleep, more relaxed than before. Katara fixed Zuko with a determined gaze.

"She's is under Himitsu's care, and I know that she will be healed. Spirit Water would be superfluous."

"It would be faster and kinder."

Katara felt her heart sting. "I know," she whispered. "But then what if something happens and someone takes a grievous injury? We saved the people crying blood with the Spirit Water, and I only have the tiniest amount left." She closed her eyes, ashamed to be seen by Zuko's accusing eyes. "I would drain the Spirit Oasis of every drop if I thought I could help everyone suffering in this world. But I can't. It's a lesson I learned a long time ago. So I instead sacrifice myself and my time to making as much change as I can, where I can."

They both looked back down at the sleeping girl, conflicted and angry, each of them. But after a moment, Zuko grunted and nodded. "I apologize. I did not mean to infer you didn't care or were negligent. It's just frustrating."

"I agree. That's why I just focus on the task at hand with the tools I have."

A few quiet seconds slipped by and then, "I'm going to get Toph out."

Zuko gaped at her. Katara, however, set her face in stone. "It's not right, keeping her locked up for so long without any word on a trial. Gisō has not passed word to me on what he means to do, so I'm going to make the decisions myself."

She did not know what compelled her to say all of this, nor did she know how she had suddenly made the decision. All she knew was that Zuko was staring at her with an intense emotion that gave strength to her conviction. She went on:

"I can't say that she will ultimately find freedom, because I know that what she has been doing is illegal. But I also can't say that I don't agree. She steals from the rich and parcels out the money to underprivileged families. Another thing I would do myself, if I weren't pinned under a crown."

_That_ part she hadn't meant to say aloud, and Zuko's sharp intake of breath jolted her from her self-loathing tirade. For a single moment, she felt afraid, but then her entire being seemed to give up. She looked at Zuko, who had been smoothing the girl's sheets.

Something kindred passed between the two of them, something that did not break, even when the door creaked open and Himitsu came in.

Katara rose first, smiling happily at the woman. Himitsu seemed surprised to find someone with Katara, but did not object. She tried peering around Katara to have a closer look.

"Himitsu, I have been waiting to introduce you to someone for a few days, now," Katara was explaining. Himitsu tossed her a glance that held multiple emotions. Katara knew Himitsu had guessed who the new visitor was and that she was far from pleased that Katara had been alone with him; but she also seemed thoroughly intrigued. Katara moved so that Zuko could step forward.

"Himitsu, this is the artist, Zuko."

Whatever Katara had rehearsed seeing in her head, this was not it.

Himitsu's eyes went wide with shock and her face paled to a sickening white. Her hands clasped at Katara's hands wildly, unable to get a grip. Her mouth opened and closed, and since no noise could be heard, the effect was far more disturbing than it would have been.

Zuko had gone rigid, his friendly greeting cut away by the nurse's fear. He averted his face, scar away from the wide, startled eyes, and muttered a hasty farewell to Katara. He whisked past the two women and shut the door with a snap.

Ignoring Himitsu's clutching hands, Katara sped after him.

"Zuko! Zuko, wait!"

He did not stop until they were at the mouth of his tunnel. He spun around, and Katara nearly collided with him.

"Zuko, please, don't…"

"Don't what, Katara? Don't react? It didn't mean anything? She was disgusted to see my face!"

"No, she wasn't…she would never…"

"But she _did_." He was breathing hard and staring at the ground. He ran a hand through his hair, and then glanced at her. "You know, I thought I'd finally found a place where the people who mattered didn't care about this," he pointed viciously at his eye. "This has marked me since before I could even talk, and I don't know why."

Katara felt tears slipping down her face as fire flicked from his hands. His anger did not lessen. "I'm so sick and tired of people seeing this and thinking…thinking…"

Katara swallowed and her next question was husky. "What?"

Fire hissed angrily across the ground. "That I'm some sort of monster."

He turned and disappeared into the brambles, his departure a direct refusal of company. Katara closed her eyes and crossed her arms, shaking visibly. She listened hard, but could hear nothing more of Zuko's sorrow.

Eventually, the setting sun made it difficult to see much, and Katara finally turned away. Walking back toward the main palace, Katara kept her eyes down, unable to voice the growing idea that felt like a physical pain in her mind: that Himitsu's reaction hadn't been one of simple fear, but of horrified recognition.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Chapter 12 you guys, oh my gosh! I'm getting there! There is the absolute slightest chance that the next few chapters may be a teensy bit later than normal, but I'm going to try very hard to get them in on time on Mondays. **

**I'd like to thank Sarah for editing, of course, and I'd also like to thank my anon reviewer, meadowbrook for your review and kind words. I'm very happy you like the story and hope you continue to all the way through :)**

**Chapter 12**

Katara was still wide awake when she heard the rustling at her door after midnight.

Gisō was, once again, absent from her side, and she did not think that it was him in the hall making those sneaking noises. For a startling moment, her mind had sprung to Zhao or his sister, but Katara shook her head as she sat up from her pillows. There were guards at the doors. One of them must have shuffled.

But something nagged at her mind until Katara sighed and heaved herself from the inanity of her covers. She hadn't been about to fall asleep, anyway.

Crossing quickly over the plush carpets, Katara reached the oaken doors, and was about to open them, when she heard a crunching sound under her foot. She stooped down and fumbled along the carpets, searching for the source of the sound. She made out a dim shape by the light under the door, and her fingers brushed against paper.

"What in the world?" She whispered to herself, seizing the paper. She stood and walked to her desk, clumsily lighting the oil lamps in her haste. Once her eyes became accustomed to the flickering glow, Katara blinked down at the scrap in her hand.

It wasn't anything fancy, and the half-formed ideas that had blundered dreamily into her agitated mind died. It was just the standard parchment the servants used to convey instructions to one another, for it lacked the royal seal. If it weren't for the lack of instructions, however, Katara would have assumed Lana or someone else had accidently dropped it earlier in the evening.

The only word written on the tattered page appeared to be a name: Ila.

Katara mouthed the name over and over, searching her memory for anyone bearing it. Nothing came to her, and she was willing to believe that maybe this scrap was just that; a scrap dropped by accident.

Yet her skin was crawling with nerves. After everything that had been happening over the past several days, after what had happened between Himitsu and Zuko, Katara's instincts were raging at her. The noise she had heard outside the chamber had not been a coincidence. Someone had slipped this name beneath the door.

Katara returned to the door and flung it open. The guards were gone. The hallway was lit only by a few torches, which did little to reveal any evidence of foul play. In fact, she could hear the guards murmuring somewhere around the corner. They were clearly making rounds and hadn't seen anything. And Katara was very doubtful that any of them had slipped her the paper. Cale would have just delivered it to her, as would have Lana.

She closed the door softly and went back to her desk; sleep an impossibility at this point.

Ila.

It wasn't even familiar. She knew no one with a similar name. She turned her attention to the paper itself. It was most certainly normal parchment, but it looked like it had been torn hastily from a larger piece. One side was jagged, and a tear was threatening to rend the piece in two. Someone had been in a hurry, which was also evidenced by the hasty scrawl that penned the name.

Katara nearly laughed aloud as she realized how much like Sokka she was behaving. Perhaps detecting was a family trait.

Casting an eye at the time piece hanging above her, Katara sighed. She stowed the paper in one of the desk drawers and made the decision to visit the library archives in the morning. The palace dossier would more than likely have an answer to her mystery, if the name was of someone close to the crown. If not, she'd have to start asking around.

* * *

The Private Library of the Fire Palace was second only to Wan Shi Tong's Spirit Library, which Katara, Sokka, and Aang had all had the privilege to use while studying with Master Pakku years ago.

Three stories of towering shelves comprised the room Katara found herself in this morning. While perhaps not as well-stocked as the infinity library, Katara thought that the Fire Nation's deposit of knowledge was far more atmospherically friendly.

Torches lit the entire vault of knowledge so that the ebony shelves positively shimmered in the light. Scrolls upon scrolls lined the shelves, leather-bound books in every color stood at attention. Large oak desks dotted the expansive rooms, large squashy arm chairs rested in secluded corners, and dozens of Fire Sages bowed to Katara from their stations.

"My Lady," the head Sage greeted her in a deep baritone. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Katara was still looking around, wide eyed. She had forgotten just how impressive the library was from her last visit. Her various duties allowed little time for leisurely activities, and Katara was excited to begin exploring. She focused her attention on the Sage, taking in his long red robes and dark skin.

"Good morning," she began. "I would appreciate it if you might direct me to the palace records. I'm especially interested in employment lists."

The Sage did well at hiding his curiosity. He nodded once and swept his arm out to the side, gesturing for the Fire Lady to follow him.

"The third room along this chamber is where we keep the records of the palace dating back at least a thousand years. You'll find everything you might wish to know about anyone whom has so much as slept under the palace roofs. The royal dossier is in the fourth room."

Katara thanked the Sage as he began to retreat. Before vanishing from the room, he added, "The shelves are ordered alphabetically, and there is an index over there in the glass podium. It will direct you to the correct row and shelf."

Her initial excitement was abating now that the task truly stood in dozens of twelve foot rows before her. The simplest glance told her that this wasn't going to be easy; there seemed to be one scroll for each of the thousand years the Sage had mentioned. Katara inhaled and slid her robe sleeves up.

The index in the casing was a gigantic leather-bound book with as twice as many pages as there were scrolls in the room. Luckily, Katara noted while flipping the old pages carefully, it, too, appeared more or less in alphabetical order. She could see where pages had been added or torn away, and her stomach dropped as she realized the page she needed could be missing.

"No, just get to the task," she huffed.

Turning to the correct characters, Katara scanned each name twice, eyes peeled for anything that looked remotely like the name Ila. She tried not to be disappointed when she found no such entry. Still, she thought hopefully, just because it wasn't in the index, doesn't mean it wouldn't be on the shelves. She noted the row and shelf numbers for names close in alphabet to Ila, and made her way over.

A solid hour of searching the same shelves brought Katara no closer to the elusive Ila. She had found the name Ika, and had studied it closely, but it had just been the name of a traveler some five hundred years ago. Somehow, Katara didn't think that was who she was looking for. The only thing she had concluded while sifting through the scrolls was that she was now certain Ila was a woman. But she couldn't say why she was so sure.

"Maybe she was a royal," the tired Fire Lady moaned to the echoing cavern of books. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check."

The room dedicated to past royal family trees was a little smaller and far more comfortable than the other room. Katara picked up the index and snuggled into a warm chair.

_It was black, and Katara could not see her hands before her. Someone was panting with exhaustion, and she belatedly realized it was her own labored breathing. She heard frantic murmurs and hoarse grunts coming from somewhere to her left._

_"Hello?"_

_The muttering stopped, and someone went, "Shh."_

_Fire exploded before her eyes, and just behind the billowing cloud of flame and smoke, reptilian eyes glimmered from a crimson-scaled face._

_Katara screamed and tried to leap back, but her shoes stuck to the floor. Just as the wall of fire reached her, something large and blue hurtled in front of her._

_"KATARA?"_

Katara sat bolt upright, scattering the scrolls that had fallen from her hands as she slept. Aang floated above her, eyes wide with concern.

"Aang," she exclaimed, trying to catch the last of the pages before they fluttered to the ground. "What's happening?"

The airbender lowered himself onto the floor and swung his arm in an upward arc. Wind blew the rogue pages back into Katara's grasp.

"Nothing's happening," he said, frowning. "You just seemed like you were having a nightmare. What are you doing here?"

Katara ordered the parchment, wondering if she should confide in Aang about her mysterious name. And then, she remembered indignantly, there was no reason she couldn't tell Aang anything.

"I'm trying to find out if anyone by the name of Ila ever worked or lived here." And she launched into the story of the late night visitor.

"You didn't see anyone?" Aang asked once she had finished. She shook her head, and he tried a different question. "And why do you think it's of importance?"

Katara could only shrug. "Why would someone go through the trouble of slipping it under my door?"

"Maybe it was for Gisō?" Aang supplied hesitantly.

Katara shook her head. "I don't think so. Why would someone slip him just a name? It would have more information if it were signifying a meeting—dubious or otherwise. Besides," she added cynically, "he's too proper for such foolishness."

"But not too honorable?"

Katara's lips thinned. "I don't think the name is for him," she said with finality. "Besides," she added bitterly, "everyone knows he hasn't been sleeping with me, so why would the note be delivered to my room?"

Aang pondered quietly for a little while. "So you think it's for you specifically. Okay. Why?"

Again, Katara shrugged. "I'm assuming it has something to do with what's been going on. Maybe something to do with the assassins? Or the conspirators? Or…"

"Or?"

"Or Zuko."

"So you're beginning to think something's up with him?"

Aang was grim. Katara hastened to explain. "No…well. I don't think he has anything to do with the assassins. But I think there's more to him than even he knows."

And before she could stop herself, Katara told Aang about what had happened with Himitsu.

"Himitsu is too experienced to have been disturbed by his scar," Aang said, confusedly.

"I know, and she's much too kind and tolerant to ever judge someone like that. I think she knows something about Zuko."

"But what has that to do with this Ila person?"

Katara rubbed her eyes, frustrated. "I don't know. And apparently, this person never existed. At least, not in the palace record."

"Maybe she never worked here," Aang replied. "Maybe she lived or lives somewhere in the city?"

Katara sighed loudly. "There are too many maybe's and unknowns. I don't know when or where she lived. I don't know who she was. But this isn't just some game. This is serious."

Aang's mouth was twitching in spite of the aforementioned seriousness. Katara scoffed. "Why are you laughing?"

Aang fought his expression into a more professional grimace. "I'm only thinking that this mystery is bringing out the Katara I've missed for four years."

Katara's grin faded as quickly as it came. "Master Pakku was right, then," she said sadly. "The crown has made me compliant."

"No," Aang assured softly, and he put a hand on her shoulder. "Love did that."

He said it so simply and without any judgment. Katara felt her eyes burn. She rubbed them again, and squeezed Aang's hand in thanks.

"Tell you what," he said shortly after, "You take a rest from here and go see Sokka. He was looking for you about boomerang practice. When I meditate this evening, I'll ask Roku and the others if they know who Ila might be."

Katara brightened. "Of course! Roku! That's a great idea, Aang, thanks."

"I'll let you know what they say as soon as I can. You should go find Sokka. Maybe he can help, too."

* * *

She found Sokka eating lunch in his room.

"There you are! Lana was about to have kittens. I think Cale actually might have." Sokka greeted her through a mouthful of what looked like fish.

Since Cale was standing sulkily to the side, rolling his eyes, Katara ignored her brother's exaggerations.

"I'm sorry if I worried you, Cale. I was in the library."

Cale looked relieved. "Thank you, Lady. Please, just tell Lana or myself where you're going next time."

She assured the soldier that she would before turning her attention back to Sokka, who was licking his fingers.

"Aang told me you wanted to start my boomerang practice. I think that's a good idea."

Sokka nodded before standing up and stretching. "I figured with the crazy lately, we've all been a little busy. But now it's time to practice. I know you're already a great bender and fighter, but we need to prepare for every situation."

"I agree."

"Great, then let's go find a place to practice. Grab your boomerang." He snatched his own off the table, and struck a battle-ready pose.

"Wash your hands, first," Katara barked.

* * *

The siblings opted to practice in one of the wide open courtyards near the front of the palace, where the military barracks lay, when Sokka's first choice hadn't panned out.

_"We're not throwing boomerangs in the throne room, Sokka; I don't care if the ceilings are 'optimal height'."_

Captain Long and a few of the other officers gladly granted the pair use of the military area, and a few off duty foot soldiers stuck around to watch the first lesson. Katara tried to ignore them.

"Now," Sokka was saying, "you have to hold it just like this, or it won't curve correctly in the air. It won't go very far, at all, actually."

Katara maneuvered her forefinger and thumb over the whale bone boomerang her brother had gifted her, and tried to pretend she felt more confident than she did. Her fingers felt obnoxiously jelly-like on the weapon. Throwing ice boomerangs was one thing; she automatically trusted the element to do what she needed it too. That, and she could just bend it if it looked like it was failing.

"Why can't I just rely on my ice boomerangs again?" She asked half-heartedly, already knowing the answer.

"Because," her brother stuck an infernal finger in the air. "There might come a time you won't have water so readily available to you. What then? You'll need a trusty boomerang."

Katara rolled her eyes and adjusted her fingers once more. "Like this?"

Sokka eyed her stance critically, rubbing his chin. "That's better than before. Now," he leant back. "Put your weight on you dominant leg…that's it. Then you'll want to bring your arm forward like this."

He pantomimed throwing the boomerang, with exaggerated slow-motion. "Another key is to let the boomerang slide from your grasp, so you'll want to keep it pretty loose in your fingers. That way, it'll sail further. Since you're right handed, make sure you spin it in a counter-clockwise direction. Finally, don't throw it from waist height. Always throw it like a ball."

Katara followed his motions for a minute. "What if my target isn't far away?" She asked.

"We'll work on aim and distance later. We just need to make sure you can throw one properly, first."

Once Sokka was satisfied that she had the movements and hold down well enough, he showed her how to watch where the boomerang would return.

"When you throw one without a necessary target, the boomerang will make an easy arc and come back to you. Like so."

Sokka let his boomerang sail, and Katara watched it fly more than half the distance of the practice field. It made a lovely curve through the air, before returning to Sokka's hand as though pulled by a phantom string.

Katara nodded, suddenly keen to try throwing her own.

Sokka stepped to her side, adjusted her stance, and then backed away. The watching soldiers, jabbed at one another, and Katara had the sneaking suspicion that they were betting on her performance. She shut their beaming faces out.

Taking a few deep breaths, Katara waited for the wind to direct her, and then she let her boomerang fly.

And fly it did. It went just over Sokka's distance before making a slightly wobbly arc. It returned to her outstretched hand happily. She couldn't help it; she glanced at the soldiers, some of whom were forking over bronze pieces. She waved merrily at the losers. The winners waved back.

"That was really good, sis!"

"Thanks, Sokka."

The two of them practiced for another hour before Katara's distance and arc had improved immensely. Sokka then spent some time showing her how to shorten the distance, and also taught her about angles and the wind. Katara listened aptly.

"I'll ask around tomorrow for some practice targets. Do you want to meet here at the same time?"

Katara nodded. "That's fine with me. If I'm a little late, it's probably because I'll be in the library." And then she remembered that Aang had suggested asking Sokka.

"Can you walk with me, Sokka? I need to ask you something."

They left the courtyard in the setting sun; on their way back to Katara's rooms before dinner. "Last night, I had trouble sleeping, and then I heard something at my door. Someone slipped a note under it."

She had kept the little scrap of paper in her robe pockets, and now handed it to her brother. Sokka inspected it for a few silent seconds.

"Someone wrote this rather hastily. They were anxious to get it to you."

"That's what I concluded. And with all the things that have been going on, I feel like it's connected somehow."

"To Zhao?"

"No. I talked to Aang earlier, and told him I think maybe it has something to do with Zuko."

Sokka listened closely while she described the event with Himitsu and Zuko the night before. It felt like it had been days.

"That's odd," Sokka agreed. "Maybe Himitsu left it."

"You know, I had thought of that. I suppose I could just outright ask her. I just…"

"What?"

"If it was from her, why wouldn't she just tell me face to face? Why the secrecy?"

Sokka seemed to understand the worry Katara had. If it had been Himitsu, the fact that she was being so secretive was nearly more alarming than the note itself.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Well, it's more than likely nothing to do with Zhao and Ari—that's his sister's name, by the way. They've disappeared. We've stopped looking in the city for them. We've just put up notices for the public to report if they see anything."

Katara grimaced, but understood. She saw Aang emerge from his rooms as they turned the corner into the guest apartments. She reminded herself to see about moving Zuko up here.

"Did you learn anything from Roku?" she asked hopefully.

Aang shook hands with Sokka and bowed to Katara. His face was troubled.

"No, Katara. I'm sorry. None of my past incarnations knew any Ila. Well, one did have a sister named Ila…but that was almost four hundred years ago."

The trio stood together, racking their minds for anything else. Sokka piped up first.

"Well, that means she's pretty recent, right?"

Katara and Aang frowned at him. "I figured she might be," Katara ventured. "But how can you conclusively think that?"

"Because," her brother hurried on, forgetting his pompousness in his eagerness. "Roku was the last Avatar before Aang, and there's a hundred year gap between the two of them. Roku wouldn't know anything about what happened from there to here."

Aang looked excited, too. "That's right! The gap throws my lives off. Ila has to be from at least the past one hundred years. I bet it's even the past thirty years."

Katara looked at her brother and friend, glad to have a narrower timeline. "That still doesn't tell us where she came from or who she was." She sighed. "Back to the library tomorrow."

* * *

The following morning was much the same as the previous. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Her days followed a very strict routine, now, and she was growing more and more restless as they progressed. Library, lunch, boomerang practice, dinner, checking on how things were proceeding with Toph, sleep.

The only thing progressing well was the boomerang lessons. She was having no luck at all in the library, and Gisō continued being nearly mum on Toph's case. In fact, she had taken to researching Toph in the library when she got close to pulling out her hair over Ila.

This evening found her off routine and in the library since Sokka was experiencing a bout of homesickness and had shut himself in his room to write a letter to Suki.

Katara was in the royal family archives for the umpteenth time, trying to find something—anything—on the family before her and Gisō. But she had only found a small list of their names and the years of their lives and rule.

That was absolutely it.

Every other family had accounts of their deeds, of the history they had created or destroyed. Ozai had nothing. His recentness and his accomplishments—which several schools still taught, and which Katara had learnt at a young age—were nowhere to be found. It was unsettling.

Frustrated, Katara shoved the scrolls away and kneaded her temples. Her arms still ached from Sokka's intensive regimen, and now her eyes were burning from all of the unfruitful research. It was all piling up. There was nothing on Ila. There hadn't been any news on Zhao, Toph's case needed tending to, and she hadn't spoken to or even seen Zuko since the evening with Himitsu. For that matter, she hadn't seen Himitsu either.

_Maybe all of this is for nothing_; she couldn't help thinking as she put the books away and began making her way out of the library. _Perhaps things are just—busy_. She couldn't expect absolute peace as a monarch of an empire. Maybe it was just time for her to let some things go and move on.

She was just entering the long hallway leading to her rooms, when her spinning mind snapped to attention. Her eyes rose to the wall on her left, and she slowed her tread to inspect the tapestry before her.

The Epic of Gisō.

She saw it every single day, and yet it was like she was looking at it for the first time.

The thick, scarlet curtain was embroidered decadently with scenes of Gisō's ascent to the throne. It showed how he and his advisors had learned of the assassination of his relatives, how they had dealt harshly with the perpetrators, how Gisō grieved but accepted Lordship with grim determination. The second panel further down the hall showed his actions during the War of Water and Fire, and then the marriage between him and Katara.

But it was the figures at the very beginning of the story that held Katara's attention now. She thought that if she hadn't been spending so much time in the archives, she would have passed the tapestry now as she always did: without second glance.

A stylized Ozai sat on the throne. His stylized wife, Ursa, sat beside him, holding their infant son—the boy who hadn't even been old enough to name. Ozai's brother, Iroh, stood on his right, bedecked in military accouterments. Katara's eyes widened and she slipped quickly to the right to follow the narrative.

Assassins had killed Ozai, and Ursa wept, knelt beside his fallen body. She was unaware of the sinister figure of black silk looming behind her. She was dead in the next panel, along with the baby…

Katara averted her eyes from the gruesomely realistic scene. They met with the anguished figure of Iroh, who had arrived too late to save his family. He took his own life. And then Gisō's men appeared on the scene and vanquished the remaining conspirators.

She knew the story. She had grown up knowing the story, as Water Tribe teachers thought it important that everyone learned thy enemies. Laying eyes on the tapestry now filled her with a sickness she couldn't explain. It was the only one, she now realized, that hung in the palace depicting Gisō's fallen relatives.

This, and the superficial accounts of their existence in the vast archives, sent a sinister chill through Katara. Iroh…

She rushed to her room, threw open the doors, and stopped cold.

A hundred panda lilies in vases of all colors decorated her furniture. Petals were strewn romantically along the carpets and across her bed. The fragrance spun lazily around her head with the rush of air from the doors. Gisō stood at the window, tracing light fingers over the Painted Lady sun catcher as it tinkled quietly in the air.

Katara stood uncertainly in the doorway, watching him warily, the tapestry's scenes still in her vision. He turned as she waited, a soft smile and a dimple gracing his features. The love-sick and vulnerable side of her softened for just a moment.

"Katara, my love," he murmured as he embraced her soundly. "I've been an absolute boor this last week." He kissed her forehead and looked down at her. "Can you possibly forgive an old man his churlishness?"

In any other period of their marriage, their running joke that Gisō was an old, grumpy man would have induced giggles and kisses. Katara simply swallowed and blinked at him, gathering courage for her next move.

Gisō was stepping away, gesturing at the flowers. "I've had these hand-picked from the volcano in the Earth Kingdom and expressed delivered. An apology, if you will."

"What, you can't pick them yourself, anymore?"

Katara clenched her fists as he frowned at her. His expression was politely confused. "You know I would if I could leave here, turtleduck."

Katara glanced around at the poor flowers that would be wilted in a matter of days, and then back at Gisō who had a patronizingly conciliatory look on his face. Katara's blood burned as he subtly guilted her. Days, he had been absent. Days spent ignoring her and making decisions about things she had every right to be a part of. Days of working in secrecy, of doing nothing about the assassins, of not coming to her when she was lonely, of not caring. _Years._

_Enough. _ No more emotional manipulation.

"What happen to all the other tapestries of Ozai's family?"

Her husband's smooth skin seemed to droop as his face went impassive. Its warm color vanished in the splotches of white that patched his cheeks.

"What are you talking about?"

Katara threw an arm out behind her. "I'm talking about that the only place I have ever seen hide or hair of Ozai's existence is on that tapestry of you taking over. Where else is he in the record? Why is his family simply gone?"

Gisō looked deathly ill as Katara pelted him with her angry questions. "You presume to know how I'd honor my dead family? That I'd neglect them? That their absence from my life wouldn't make me miserable? That I couldn't bear to see their faces, knowing what happened to them?"

This voice had grown eerily softer with every excuse he gave her. Katara almost felt bad; anguish might have caused the newly lorded boy to order every instance of his dead family removed from memory. But…

"Why aren't they in the family archives, then? Why aren't your cousins, Ursa, and your baby cousin mentioned at all?"

She could tell that she was pressing buttons that she shouldn't be. Gisō was stalking toward her, a malevolent light in his eyes she had never seen before. His boots tore the petals lying beautifully on the ground. He looked slightly manic as he reached her.

"You have no business going in the records."

"Like hell I don't," she shouted.

"ENOUGH," he screamed back, hand flashing forward. Katara gasped as his fingers pulled painfully through her hair in their quest to grasp her.

But then he was yelling in pain and jerking his hand away. A long, deep slash split his palm open, and blood splattered over her dress, his robes, and the flowers.

Katara brought a hand to her hair, shocked and confused, and she saw savage hate in Gisō's amber eyes as he spotted the obsidian earrings. She had only thought to put them on this morning.

Before anything else could happen, Katara ran.

She did not stop running to consider anything. Her feet simply seemed to follow her heart. She did not stop running until she had reached the place she had felt most safe since returning to the palace weeks ago.

She crashed blindly through the thicket leading toward the old ruins, closer to the roaring fire she could hear, closer to…

Zuko looked up, aghast, as Katara burst through the brambles. He was standing over his fire, and had been keeping an eye on one of his creations. Now he drew forward, eyes narrowed in confusion, a flush creeping over his neck.

She was shaking and her chest was heaving with her fear and rage. He put out a hand to steady her, and saw the blood.

Again, the soldier returned, and Zuko went stock still. "What happened?"

Katara, not yet ready to explain what had occurred, assured Zuko that it wasn't her blood, and that she wasn't hurt. He cast an unbelieving eye over her form before accepting her words. After a few minutes of quiet, she began to calm down, and her shock was quickly replaced by fury. She was up and pacing around, trying to wrestle her mind into following one train of thought at a time. Zuko let her stew.

The first coherent thought she could form into words wasn't very rational. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Zuko's eyebrows shot up, and Katara, in her hysteria, thought that this expression was becoming permanent. She seemed to bring out the cynicism and sarcasm in him. She stomped her foot. He snorted.

"You're the one who comes in here, covered in blood and shaking like a turtleduckling, and you're angry at me for being busy?"

His words were calm, his face once more impassive. Katara was reaching boiling point. She sent a cauldron of water near a low wall into the fire with a violent wave of her arm. The fire went out, and steam rose up between them, hissing and spitting. The remainder of the water sloshed on the ground.

Zuko stared at his ruined project for a minute before shaking his head and turning away. Katara snapped and started yelling.

"You are utterly ridiculous! You are petulant and exasperating; your lack of emotion is just as frustrating as your moments of violent passion." She stormed back and forth, sending water flying into bushes and trees. She was aware that Zuko was watching her as he leaned against a pillar. "I haven't seen you for days; you won't let anyone see you. You think you're some kind of monster, but I don't think you are. I can barely think about you without feeling…"

"What?"

Katara regarded him with dumbfounded annoyance.

"You interrupt me when I speak, you…"

Zuko stepped into the path she had been cutting. His voice dropped in octave. "What do I make you feel?"

The dam of feelings that had been building in Katara's soul, much to her denial, finally broke somewhere near her thudding heart. "Everything," she whispered.

Katara watched him fretfully, and when he didn't make the decision for her, her heart leapt and took her with it.

All of the physical heat that he and Gisō had in common was nothing compared to the warmth that clung to Katara's skin and senses as she pressed her lips to Zuko's. She found, with fleeting guilt, that the thought of Gisō did not alter her actions in the slightest; and Zuko's arms enveloping her like a long lost lover's served to push her harder against his body and further from her doubts.

Behind her, everything disappeared: Gisō's wrath, the tapestry, Ila, the conspiracies. And even though the last string of logic she possessed knew it was only momentary, Katara let it go.

Zuko held her tightly and responded to the kiss as though he, too, had been battling with denial and longing for the past weeks of their acquaintanceship. His left arm wrapped around her waist while his right hand went to her jaw. His fingers slid gently through her hair, thumb skimming just below her earlobe.

Katara started and drew away, careful to crane her neck just so. Her lips felt raw and tender, and a blush was branding her skin. "Careful," she murmured shyly, unable to look into his eyes. "The earrings."

Zuko ran a thumb under her chin so he could tilt her face back. His eyes were intent, and Katara remembered seeing such fierce looks from him before. How she hadn't realized…

Zuko was brushing her hair away so that he could look at the earrings. He very carefully unhooked one from her ear.

"It's chipped," he rasped. The sound thrilled down Katara's spine. She looked at the little earring.

"It stopped Gisō from grabbing me."

The murderous glint returned to Zuko's eyes. "That's his blood?"

Katara nodded.

"You should leave, Katara."

Zuko stepped away, still holding the sharp earring. Katara laughed.

"And go where?" She knew that he did not mean to simply leave his apartments. "Home? And bring all of this back to my family?"

"What is _this _exactly? What's been going on?"

Katara closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them, Zuko was before her again, calmer. He smiled at her sadly. "I want to help."

"And I want to forget," she admitted guiltily. She ran fingers over his shirt and shoulders. "Just for a night. I want to forget."

She felt guilt in her stomach and heart for saying such a thing when her life was apparently in danger. She knew she should have gone to Sokka or Aang, that she should have taken immediate action against Gisō for his wrongs. She should have tackled the mystery with double the force she had been showing.

But a remedy to her broken and bleeding heart was standing in front of her, warm and safe and soothing. She felt as if she were by the ocean…home.

The trace of argument on Zuko's lips vanished as he took in her imploring eyes. His lips came back to hers, and she felt the delicious warmth of his breath.

"Let me help you with that."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Everyone, try to remain calm hehehe. I hope this one gives you all kinds of feels. I should warn you, the end is coming.**

**Thank you to Sarah for editing, and to kryssy, my anon reviewer for your lovely review!**

**Also, I learned from a reviewer that my story was recommended on a Zutara FB page! I am beyond honored and excited that people want to share it with fellow fans and friends! Thank you to everyone who reads, follows, faves, and reviews. You're all amazing.**

Chapter 13

"I wish I didn't have a ceiling."

She felt Zuko's head turn to look at her. The pair was lying side by side on an old divan that had been provided to the artist upon his arrival, gazing up at the milky swath of stars. Zuko had his arm around her shoulders, and Katara rested her head on his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat through his vest. She snuggled closer.

Zuko chuckled as he contemplated her words. "And what would you do about the rain?"

Katara lifted her head to face him; her eyebrow arched in what she thought was an excellent copy of his well-known skepticism.

Zuko laughed louder. "Right," he grinned. "Waterbender. Still, that would be exhausting."

Katara settled back down. His laughter was a wonderful thing to hear. She couldn't remember ever hearing him laugh. Low, reserved chuckles, maybe, but this was uninhibited and new. Everything about him had always been so reserved. Even his anger had always started reserved. Like black thunderheads in the distance.

"I just love seeing the stars like this," she admitted sleepily. Lying next to Zuko's warmth had caused her to become very drowsy in the past hour or so that they had laid there. She sighed contently.

Zuko's thumb skimmed over her sleeved arm, and she was reminded of the night he had touched her on the beach. Such ages, it seemed, now. His voice broke the silence.

"Why don't you ever leave the palace? You know, just to get away for a little while?"

His tone was genuinely curious. Katara blinked as she formulated her answer.

"I usually do. I still could if I wanted." She sighed again, a slightly frustrated noise which Zuko tensed at. "It's a mix of reasons, I guess. I've been busy trying to figure things out about Zhao and Gisō. I've also started researching things that might help Toph. I mean to visit her tomorrow because even before Gisō did what he did, he hadn't been very forthcoming with her trial. Everything's just been a swirling mess—I don't know when to set one thing aside to pick up something else."

Zuko squeezed her tighter. She swallowed and then, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I know that I'm failing my people."

Zuko went rigid and sat up. He stared down at her. "You aren't failing your people, Katara. You've been busy. Your life is potentially in danger, for Roku's sake."

Katara looked at his fierce, devoted expression, smiling sadly. "I suppose."

"And you told me that every time you bring up anything political or important with Gisō, he'd avoid the subject." Zuko was glaring now.

She finally sat up, hands behind her, propping her up. She grinned. "You sound awfully defensive."

A flush swept over the artist's cheeks, and he turned away. "Well. It's easy for me to see whom people look to for leadership. And I don't mean advisors and diplomats and all the old platypus-bears that don't matter."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been out, Katara. I've been though the city…"

"I didn't know that."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Unlike some busy Fire Ladies, I've a ridiculous amount of time on my peasant hands."

Katara snorted at him, but bade him continue.

"The point is," Zuko asserted, "the people out there—they love you. I haven't heard an ill word against you, and I've been to some shady places."

Katara ignored the urge to reprimand the latter remark. Instead, she said slowly, "They do? Still?"

"Of course they do! They appreciate everything you've done for them, they're outraged with Zhao and Ari—there have been several manhunts for them—and they understand that you have your duties here. No one thinks you're shirking them."

Katara stared at Zuko, holding his golden gaze fixedly. She leant forward and pressed her lips to his.

"You have no idea how much relief you've just given me," she whispered against his lips.

His hand snaked into her hair, and he deepened the kiss. When they broke apart, both were considerably flushed.

"I also haven't left the palace because I'm scared."

It was a brutally difficult admission for her to make. She had felt a mix of emotions when she finally came to that conclusion several days ago, and felt them still. Guilt at being too scared to see the people, frustration and anger that she felt scared at all, and, of course, the terror itself. Zhao still leered his way though her nightmares.

"And now," she continued when Zuko didn't reply, "I'm scared to be in the palace—after Gisō."

Zuko looked away from her, toward the smoldering ruins of his campfire. The way that he sat so rigidly expressed swirling thoughts. She knew that he understood how hard it had been for her to tell him this, and the knowledge stirred something in her chest. After a few moments more, he spoke:

"Don't fear your home. This palace is yours as much as it is his. You have every right to it. The people here would die protecting you."

"But I don't want anyone to die for me," she muttered, folding her arms over her knees.

Zuko had nothing to say to that.

She watched him in the ensuing silence. She was on his left, and his scar looked odd in the starlight; like half of his face was in shadow. Katara reached over cupped his cheek, running light fingers over the reddened flesh.

He flinched only slightly. His reaction was tribute to the amount of trust he felt for her.

"I could heal this for you. With the Spirit Water."

"You could?"

"Yes, it would work." She continued touching the wound. The skin was actually quite smooth and soft from age, but it saddened her deeply. Who had thought to do such a thing? And to a young child…a baby?

Because Katara now felt that Zuko's old wound was inflicted by a person. What sort of environmental conditions would a mother risk her baby in? No…a person did this. And Katara began to feel that maybe, just maybe, whatever happened to Zuko was also connected to his parents' deaths.

"Zuko," she said loudly in her remembrance, "your uncle…Iroh…"

"My Lady?"

Zuko and Katara leapt away from each other with lightning speed. Lana stood, unsure, in the shadows of the entrance tunnel across the courtyard.

"Yes, Lana, what is it?" Katara knew that pretending the scene Lana had stumbled upon never happened was futile, but she wanted to remain dignified. And she wanted to save Zuko some embarrassment.

"Cale and I were just beginning to worry about you," Lana tip-toed closer, obviously embarrassed herself. "We saw his Lordship earlier, and he seemed so beside himself with anger…are you okay?"

Katara assessed the situation quickly. She knew there was only one way to go about it.

"Yes, Lana, I am perfectly fine. Shall we go back to my room?"

Lana nodded so earnestly, a few of her red hairs fell from her bun. She kept shooting anxious glances at Zuko, who ignored her as best he could.

Katara strode forward and linked her arm through Lana's. As she ushered the maid away, she turned her head to look back at Zuko.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

His smile stayed with her the entire way back to her rooms.

* * *

Neither of the women spoke until they reached Katara's rooms. Cale was pacing the hallway in front of the doors, clearly on the lookout in case Katara returned before Lana found her. When he spotted the pair, he fell into near incoherent gratitude.

"Thank the Avatar; you're safe, my Lady. I'm glad that Lana found you. Are you alright? Did anything happen?"

Only Katara's risen hand quieted his fretting. She smiled benignly at him. "I'm okay, Cale. I simply need a few words with Lana. Would you please continue guarding the door? Knock if someone wishes to see me."

Cale saluted importantly. "Of course, my Lady. If there's anything else you need, just tell me."

Katara and Lana filed through the doors, and the former locked them. She turned back to her maid, and noticed the girl was refusing to look at her.

Katara collapsed onto her bed, her face in her hands. "Oh, Lana, you must think I'm the most horrible woman alive."

Katara certainly had begun to feel that herself, as they had walked away from Zuko's apartments. Guilt and anger surged around in her belly until she felt sick. But, it wasn't guilt for Gisō's sake. It was more so guilt that she had put herself before everything else that had been going on. And, naturally, humiliation was creeping up behind all of the present feelings.

Lana, however, clinched her worries in one snappy sentence.

"I do not think you're terrible, my Lady," she said crisply. "I just want you to be more careful. I might not be the one to find you there, next time."

Katara stared dumbly at the pacing girl. Lana continued, "Lady Katara, I am on your side, and while the situation does make me a little uncomfortable, I can't say that I entirely—disprove of it."

The last part of her speech had been less confident than the rest, but no less honest, as far as Katara was concerned. She pushed herself to her feet, crossed to her friend, and wrapped her arms around her. After brief hesitation, Lana returned the embrace.

"But, why?" Katara asked after some seconds. She held Lana at arm's length and studied her interestedly. "Why would you not disprove?"

Lana blushed and chewed her lip nervously. Her eyes were downcast. "A maid always keeps her lady's secrets. And, besides…"

"Go on," Katara prompted. "Lana, what's wrong?"

"Oh, your Ladyship," Lana all but wailed, "I don't very much like Lord Gisō."

Katara hushed her and walked the distraught maid to the bed. She sat the girl down and went to the door. Another guard had joined Cale, and Katara was pleased to recognize Ty Lee.

"Ty Lee, would you please go to the kitchens and bring up a restorative? Broth, whiskey, whatever is easiest to get."

Ty Lee saluted without faltering and hurried away.

Cale looked anxious. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Lana is just a little upset. All will be well." Katara paused before going back inside. "Cale, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, my Lady."

She looked at the young earthbender, with his Fire Nation regalia, sheathed sword, and royal guard insignia. And then she looked at his bright eyes. What she saw there affirmed her instincts.

"You love Lana."

The boy blushed deep scarlet. "That's not a question, Lady."

Katara smirked. "You're right; there's absolutely no question about it. My question is, are you loyal to me?"

Cale stood straight as a pin. "My Lady, I would die for you."

"Oh, Cale, you really should learn to curb your dramatics. I'm not asking you to die for me, but I appreciate the sentiment." She glanced up and down the hallway. "Things are changing, Cale. Lana tells me she will keep my secrets because she trusts me. Now, I trust you very much. Do you trust me?"

The soldier nodded. Katara did, too. "Good. I want you at my door and as my escort constantly, Cale. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely, Lady Katara."

"Right. Now, let Ty Lee in when she returns with Lana's drink."

Katara ducked back into her room and locked the doors again. Lana was still sitting on the bed, crying. The Fire Lady marched over and sat down beside her frightened maid.

"Lana, what has caused you to not like Fire Lord Gisō?"

But Lana tightened her lips together and shook her head.

Katara felt her anxiety turn into impatience. "Come on, girl, do you really think I'd be angry at you for speaking ill of him? After you saw me with Zuko?"

Despite herself, Lana broke into a few giggles. "I suppose not," she mumbled. "I'm just—rather scared of his Lordship."

"Has he ever harmed you?"

"No. He's barely even spoken to me. I spend most of my time with you or in your quarters. I rarely see the Fire Lord."

Katara knew that it was not just her husband's imposing figure that frightened the redhead, but her next question was thwarted by the arrival of Ty Lee and the whiskey. She thanked the soldier and returned her to her post.

"Drink this in one go, Lana. It'll help."

The maid wrinkled her nose, but did as she was told. She coughed and shuddered, but some color had returned to her freckled face. "You were right; I feel better."

Katara patted Lana on the back while the girl steadied herself. "I've heard things, my Lady. My position in the palace lets me hear all but say little."

"What sorts of things?"

"Just—how he treats his prisoners, for one thing. That woman, the Blind Bandit, for instance…"

Katara felt her stomach drop. "Lana, what has he done to her?"

"Nothing absolutely horrific. But I've heard that he's nasty enough without being physical. He plays psychological games with her. I guess he's trying to get her to confess to something."

Katara's heart was hammering in her chest. She stood up and crossed her arms. "That sounds accurate," she swallowed roughly.

"But, my Lady," Lana whispered. "I think he's trying to get her to confess to your attempted murder."

_"What?"_

"Word is the Lord wants all the latest trouble cleaned up very soon. I'm frightened for the woman. She's a crook, sure, but I don't think she's a cold blooded killer."

Katara was stunned silent at Lana's theories. She didn't want to believe it, but after Gisō's behavior, she was finding it hard not to. She sat back down on the bed. Even if what Lana had told her wasn't true, Katara knew that there was no more wasting time. She had to go see Toph herself, and try to get the earthbender out.

"Lana, thank you for telling me all of this; I know that it was hard to, but I appreciate it. You are free to go. Get some sleep."

Lana stood and curtsied, but then she placed a hand on Katara's. "It's going to be alright, Lady. Prince Sokka and Avatar Aang with protect you. Cale and the others, too. And I'll be here."

The maid started making her way to the door. Before she left, she turned once more. "And, if it's not too bold, I know Master Zuko will help. He's a good man."

* * *

Katara slept deeply.

In the darkness of the early morning, when the cricket-hoppers could still be heard in the trees outside, Cale woke her, as she had asked before turning in for the night.

"Thank you, Cale. Ready yourself and Lana in the hall. I'll be out shortly."

Her friend nodded once and stowed away. Katara lay still for a few more deep breaths, and then slid from her covers.

Before going to sleep the previous night, she had laid out her dress and robes. Blues and grays made up the simple ensemble, and Katara found herself reaching deep inside for her Tribesman courage. Once she was dressed, she pinned her hair up into a bun, securing it with the Fire Lady emblem. Her mirror revealed a face of determination and defiance. This was a familiar face, one she hadn't seen since she was maybe eighteen years old. It was like seeing an old friend.

Her final act of preparation was to open a crate beneath her bed. Inside, nestled in a velvet cushion, was her water skein.

Katara picked up the soft pouch, reveling in its weight and silky texture. Made of arctic-yak skin, it was one of the remaining vestiges of her old life. She hadn't worn it since coming to the palace, when Gisō's role as husband was supposed to have been protection enough.

She closed the crate and pushed it back under her bed. Rising, she reached for the vase of water on her side table and filled the skein, flexing her bending as she did so. Once the skein was attached to her hip, Katara belted her boomerang beneath her robes. With the two weapons, she felt better about walking the halls of her now threatening home.

Outside her door, Lana and Cale waited to take her to the dungeons where Toph was kept. Once there, the trio had agreed, Cale would take the place of whatever guard kept watch, while Lana would return to the main palace to distract Gisō should he come looking for his wife.

The walk was a long one, but Cale and Lana used the service corridors, which cut the journey down significantly. They were foreign passages, and had not Katara known where she had begun, she wouldn't know she were in the palace at all. Everything was so—plain.

Finally, they reached the artificial holding cells.

Ever since Katara had ordered Toph down here, she had regretted it. Had she allowed them to put Toph in the iron and steel cells, the brilliant bender could have escaped. It wasn't hard to believe the rumor the girl could bend metal.

But here they were. The plastic hallway clicked beneath the group's shoes in an eerie way. Only a few cells dotted the distance between the entrance and Toph's confinement. The guard at her door appeared baffled, but not concerned. He saluted Katara respectfully before acknowledging Cale and Lana. Cale spoke first.

"I am to relieve you, Merrick, and the Lady wishes a word with her prisoner. You can go get some rest."

Merrick nodded a bit sleepily. "Thank you, Cale, my Lady." Stretching, the young man wandered off without a second thought.

Cale snorted lightly. "Boy's going to get an earful one day. He didn't ask the proper security questions. But," the man grunted as he set to unlocking the cell, "I was counting on that."

The door swung open, revealing a second door. "Lady Katara, I am going to open that door too, but I won't be shutting this outer one. If you need anything, it'll be perfectly easy for me to rush in."

"Thank you, Cale. Lana, please return upstairs and keep close to the Fire Lord without seeming conspicuous. If he starts wondering where I am, try leading him to the library, and then the training ground where I practice with Sokka. I don't mean to be down here too long."

Lana nodded once. "What if Prince Sokka or Avatar Aang come looking for you?"

Katara smiled. "They know me well enough—they'll play along with whatever you can think of if you seem at ease."

After Lana vanished, Katara gestured for Cale to open the door, and she slipped inside.

"Long time no see, Sugar Queen."

"You can't see," Katara blurted rather foolishly.

The Blind Bandit sat up from her bed, and her milky eyes glinted in the light of the dawn blooming outside. The cell boasted every amenity, from a comfy bed to high, welcoming windows. But Katara sensed a current of sadness under the formality.

Toph was staring straight at her, it seemed. "You're a smart one, I'll give you that," she muttered sarcastically.

Katara whisked forward and the girl's head jerked to follow the invisible motions. "I did not come here to bandy words with you, Toph," she asserted directly.

"Well, I was beginning to think you wouldn't come at all."

Katara flinched as she came to stand at Toph's side. Her admission was only slightly accusing, but it rang of a dwindling hope. It dawned upon Katara that Toph must have been waiting for days for her arrival. And the fact that only Gisō's cruelty met her instead…

"Relax, Sugar. Don't get all sobby on me."

Katara snapped her faraway gaze to the girl. Her feet were now planted on the floor. She was just a little shorter than Katara, and much stockier. Gratefully, Katara realized that she didn't look any worse than the first night they met, which meant she was at least eating. The bath in the corner, however, certainly hadn't been utilized.

"How can you tell what I'm feeling?" The Fire Lady asked resignedly. She knew it was hopeless to pretend Toph had read her wrong.

The Blind Bandit remained quiet for a few seconds before she answered, "I can feel your pulse through the floor."

Katara looked down at the ground and, almost as if she had seen it, Toph wiggled her dirty toes.

"You can feel me?"

"Yep. And not just you, but anyone who feels anything."

It all made sense now. Her heart hadn't exactly been discreet that night when Zuko had swept into her rooms while they were all interviewing Toph. She felt a blush emerge on her cheeks, and was still thankful that Toph at least couldn't see that.

"You can feel it even through the plastic floor?"

Toph's smug complexion wilted at that inquiry. She flopped back onto the bed and stared blankly at the vaulted ceiling. "Just barely," she spat.

Katara sighed and sat down on the bed beside Toph. This surprised the girl, and she sat up to pulled her knees to her chest. Before Katara could think better of it, an apology spilled out of her.

"I'm sorry I put you here."

Toph blinked, a frown creasing her forehead. "I can't say I blame you," she replied truthfully. "You really are much cleverer than I presumed. Not many people read me as well as I read them."

Katara relaxed at the compliment. "I guess you sort of reminded me of my brother. He always gets pretty smug when things are going too much his way."

Toph chuckled. "Oh, yes, Cuddly Poops. Does he still love me, or is he too suspicious of me for that?"

Katara laughed. "I think he's gotten over it. You're his hero." She paused for a moment, and then added, "And none of us really think you had anything to do with the attempt on my life, Toph."

"Tell that to your husband."

And there they were. The subject Katara had been dreading, but had marched here to discuss, had been broached. She held her breath and then, "Why do you say that?"

Toph's demeanor suddenly underwent a remarkable change. She scooted further away from Katara and glared at her maliciously. "Why do you want to know? He sent you here to get information out of me, didn't he?"

Katara attempted hushing the frantic girl, but Toph was screaming at her now.

"Go away! I won't tell you anything. There's nothing to tell. GO AWAY!"

Cale burst through the door. "My Lady, it's time to leave."

Despite her alarm, Katara forced herself to remain calm as she rose from the bed. Toph had her head buried against her knees.

"Toph, I'm going to come back. I'm not here for my husband. I'm here for you. Whatever he's done…I'll make it better. I swear to you, I'll make it better."

She left the Blind Bandit crying on the bed.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell her you wanted to help her escape?" Cale questioned as the pair returned to the main palace for a late breakfast. They saw nothing of Lana or Gisō as they trekked to the dining hall.

"Because I have my own questions to ask her, Cale, ones that are imperative to figuring out what's been going on around here. I need to know what Gisō's been doing to her. If I had let her out, there would have been uproar sooner than we need, and I wouldn't get any information out of her."

She knew it sounded harsh, but it was the simple truth. She needed Toph for a few more days before she could get her out. She'd just have to go about the visits more carefully than she had assumed.

The two of them reached the dining room, Cale bowed to Katara, and the latter entered the room. Again, she found herself stopping short. This time out of fear rather than surprise.

Gisō was chatting animatedly with Aang and Sokka some distance from her. She could just see the sickening joy on her husband's face, and she felt a sharp stab of terror in her chest. And then the Fire Lord looked up and saw her.

The grin that curled his lips wolfishly almost had her fleeing from the room. His once lovely dimple now resembled an evil slice. But she swallowed and stepped forward carefully; knowing Aang and Sokka's presence would keep the most of Gisō's anger at ease.

"There's my turtleduck," he greeted sweetly. Katara's lip twitched, but that was all she could muster in the way of a smile. His arm around her shoulder sent her shuddering infinitesimally. "The Avatar and Sokka have just given me outstanding news, and I know that your mind will be put at ease when you hear it."

He was very good at acting, Katara noted. Too bad she hadn't realized this sooner.

"And what might that be?" She feigned genuine interest for the benefit of Aang and her brother.

"Zhao and his sister, Ari, have been seen at last. We're that much closer to catching the beasts."

Katara couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the words. At least that portion of her serving of problems seemed close to being resolved. "That _is _excellent news! Where were they seen?"

Aang piped up. "Down by the shipping lanes on the outside of the industrial district. It's not shocking; they have a house there and must have finally thought it safe to come back for supplies."

"The shipping lanes?" Katara repeated. "But that's not even a day's walk from here."

Gisō pulled her gently nearer to him. She fought down a cringe. "My dear, I know it's a little worrying, but we're doubling our search again. Nothing will keep us from seizing them this time."

Sokka and Aang were nodding grimly, and Katara knew she must appear thankful. "Of course. I'll just be glad when they're captured and this mess can be put away."

Gisō hummed and kissed her hair, lingering a little too long. "You and I, both, my sweetling. Now, why don't you go get some food and have a rest. I'll be working with Aang on a few matters today, so I won't see you again until dinner."

Katara could only nod. Her husband and Aang left, leaving her with Sokka. Lana approached as well.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" She asked softly.

"Yes, Lana. I am fine. Go speak to Cale, he'll brief you."

Sokka watched Lana leave. "Brief her on what? Katara, something's going on with you. Where were you this morning? I saw Lana leading Gisō around in circles looking for you, and I played along, but—what?"

Katara had thrown her arms around her brother as he admonished her; fully aware of how lucky she was to have him in her life. "Sokka, I'm so glad that you're here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her brother awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "Yeah, sure, Katara. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Just, promise you'll help me when I ask."

"You know that I will."

Katara broke the embrace first, promising herself she'd fill him in on her plans for Toph at the right time.

"I also have news that might interest you," he announced as she crossed her heart.

"What?"

The pair started toward the food. "I got a letter from Suki via express hawk. She was updating me about how the village is doing and how Tikaani is, when she wrote that one of our family friends had a baby."

"Oh, how wonderful!"

"That's not the best part," Sokka could barely contain his excitement as he stacked breakfast on his plate. "The baby's name is Ila."

Katara felt her mouth fall open. "Surely that's not what the note I got meant?"

Sokka shook his head. "Nah, I just thought you'd find it interesting."

Katara pondered this news as they both walked back to her room. "Sokka, I've been a bit dense," she admitted angrily. "I've been looking through the registers of employees, when I should have been looking through the water bender lists. They used to be kept separate when tensions were running high!"

Sokka grinned. "I thought so, too! I looked while you were off on your morning adventure—you should tell me where you were, you know. It'd make me more comfortable about not being able to find you when there are killers—"

"SOKKA!"

"Oh, sorry. I went ahead and looked because I thought the same thing. But there was nothing."

Katara's heart plummeted. "Nothing?"

"Not even a little bit."

"This is ludicrous," Katara snarled at her door. Cale flashed her a sympathetic look as she and Lana came up behind them.

"I'm going to write to Master Pakku. If anyone knew any water benders in the Fire Nation back then, he would. Thanks for telling me, Sokka. I promise I'll fill you in on where I was as soon as I'm sure I'm on the right track."

She and Lana went inside, where she penned a quick correspondence to her old master.

"Lana, take this and dispatch it with an express hawk, please. I'm going to need an answer quickly."

* * *

The setting sun found her, once more, in Zuko's little courtyard. The artist was working on a few pieces that needed last minute care, and Katara sat on their broken pillar to watch him. She found a great sense of peace in seeing him create works of art. She had just finished telling him about her visit with Toph.

"I need to find out what sort of interrogation methods he's using on her. Lana said they were psychological, and I can fully believe that based on how Toph behaved, but it's going to take some time to get her to trust me."

Zuko was nodding as he glued a few pieces together, but his reply was dismal. "You might not have a whole lot of time left."

Katara chewed the inside of her cheek. "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't allowed to leave the palace earlier today." Zuko straightened and his troubled eyes met hers.

"What?"

"I told the guards at the gate that I needed to make a supply run, but they told me no one was to leave." Zuko wiped his hands off on his pants. "I didn't believe them about the 'no one' part."

"Something's coming, isn't it?" Katara whispered, spirits sinking. The peace she had found was snuffed out, much like Zuko's fire.

"I think so," Zuko acceded. "You might have to get Toph out sooner than you expected. She's innocent in all this, I know it. She can't be stuck here if something happens—if Gisō decides to be impulsive."

"You're right," Katara agreed. "I'll plan for at least five days. Zhao and Ari were spotted again; Gisō will be preoccupied with them for a while." She paused, "Maybe that's why they wouldn't let you leave! Maybe they want to catch them before anyone innocent comes across them."

It was a ship-shod guess at best, and Zuko was shaking his head. "I doubt it."

In effort to brighten the atmosphere, Katara told Zuko that Lana was fully on her side and that the girl wasn't afraid of Zuko anymore. This resulted in a crooked smile.

"That's good; I didn't want her to be afraid of me. What about your guard?"

"Cale is on my side completely," Katara answered. "And if that were ever in question, he's in love with Lana, and would follow her across Wan Shi Tong's desert."

Zuko's eyes were laughing, and he was slowly walking her way. "And would you follow me across such a desert?" He leaned over her, smirking.

"Maybe on an air bison," she teased, her senses engaged by his closeness.

Their lips met, and Katara's hands went to his neck. He pulled her to her feet so that he could hold her against him, his hands running down her sides and across her lower back. The sensation hitched her hips forward, and Zuko hummed low in his throat. The kiss became more rushed, less calming, and Katara could feel her pulse in her ears. Her thumb skimmed his scar.

She broke away. "Zuko, about your uncle…"

Up went the eyebrow. "You realize I'm not really in the mood to discuss my uncle?" His lips dropped to her neck. Katara gasped and instinctively turned her head so he could reach more of her skin.

"I'm serious, Zuko," she tried again.

"Me, too." His left hand dipped lower down her belly.

"Just because Cale is on look out doesn't mean we can do this," she argued weakly.

"You're already tempting fate by being here at all."

His hot breath made her shiver but she pushed herself away when his words registered. "You're right. How could I be so stupid?"

A shock of anger flitted across his features. "Well, if you feel that way about it," he snapped.

Katara was in no mood for his hurt feelings, however. "Oh, that's not what I meant, and you know it. Anyone could see us. I'm putting you in so much danger by even speaking to you. I can't take that risk," she mumbled, toying with his vest. Even as she said the words, she couldn't keep her hands off of him. "You mean too much to me."

Zuko tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed roughly, pulling her kisses from her with each breath. "You mean too much to me, too."

"Then perhaps we shouldn't…"

Her heart was already pining for him and she hadn't even left yet. _Roku, this was going to be difficult._ "You'll be the death of me," she muttered against his jaw.

He tipped her head back to look down at her, the familiar and startling hostility in his eyes again. "I have no intention of that."

The words thrilled her, and she kissed him again.

"Really, though," she tried again. "Your uncle was a part of the Fire Palace guard, right?"

Zuko sighed. "No. Well, to be honest, he never went into great detail about his military time. All I know for absolute certain is that he trained for many years in his younger days, and was quite the skilled fighter. He just always said "In the Fire Nation army…" when he spoke of it at all."

Katara frowned, suspicion tugging at her gut. It was nearly instinctive, the thought tickling at her mind, but she also felt she might be jumping to fanciful conclusions.

"I was only curious because Ozai had a brother named Iroh."

Zuko burst into laughter. "Iroh was a pretty common name, I should think. Everyone wanted to name their kids after accomplished members of the royal family."

Katara blinked, still in thought. But General Iroh, brother of Fire Lord Ozai, had killed himself. Zuko's uncle had died within the past year. It didn't add up. She sighed.

The warning dinner bell in the distance signaled the end of their time together. "I shouldn't be late," Katara whispered. "If I'm on time, they won't think anything is the matter."

"Go," Zuko said, kissing her one more time. "Enjoy your dinner. I'll see you later."

* * *

Neither of them knew just how soon they'd see each other again.

Katara, dressed and refreshed with the aid of Lana, entered the dining room to a smaller crowd than usual. Clearly, Gisō had sent the dignitaries and other guests home, because it was only him, Sokka, Aang, and the usual servants that greeted her.

And Zuko.

Zuko's absence from formal dinners since the night Katara had collapsed made his presence now very startling. Katara nearly stopped in her tracks, throwing him a questioning look. He returned her voiceless query with a shrug.

"There you are, my love!"

Katara grit her teeth at the sound of her husband's voice. He was standing in front of his seat, beckoning her to take her place beside him.

"I hope you weren't expecting a large party, my dear," he went on as she sat down. Lana came up behind her to make sure everything was in its place. Gisō smiled widely at her, and Katara grimaced back.

"I sent all of our friends home. I thought perhaps a more intimate setting was finally in order. We haven't sat down to discuss everything that's been going on for a while."

"You're right," Katara said carefully. "I'd like to know what is happening with Toph, if you do…"

"Lady Katara, please," he warned through a clenched jaw. "Let's not bring that beggar up. I would prefer to discuss Zhao and Ari—they're a more immediate threat."

Unfortunately, Aang and Sokka agreed with this topic. Sokka began informing everyone that the disgraceful siblings hadn't been seen anymore in the shipping lanes. Their house had been found in turmoil, and that suggested looting. Zuko was paying attention closely. Katara did not like the look Gisō was eyeing him with.

"I thought you believed the Blind Bandit was a part of this coup?" She inquired. She could see the servants coming from the passages, hands loaded with the first course. She wanted to get this out before they were inclined to eat.

Gisō waved his hand. "Oh, I'm sure she's got more to her story than just being a sneak thief, but I'm certain now that she's not really a part of Zhao and Ari's schemes. Even so," he added when the plates were placed in front of everyone, "I would like to keep her for a little bit longer. At least until we have more information on the assassins."

Katara, however, had only vaguely registered what her husband said. She was watching the servants placing Zuko's meal down, and a light sweat had broken out over her back. Why was he suddenly here? Presumably, he would have been ordered to attend.

"Love," Katara said rather loudly, turning toward Gisō. He smiled benevolently at her.

"Yes, turtleduck?"

"I was just thinking," she continued in a high voice, glad everyone was distracted by her, "I'm not feeling all that well. Couldn't we just eat upstairs?"

"Oh," Gisō patted her hand, "I think we'll be okay. I assure you that there's nothing to worry about. I know you're probably still worried about poison."

Considering it had been numerous days since that episode, Katara could nearly taste the lie as it left his mouth.

"Even so," the Fire Lord began nodding fretfully, "I think action should be taken to ensure everything is quite safe. Zhao and Ari having just popped back up; of course you would be upset…"

His excitement was palpable from where Katara was sitting. She knew what was about to happen and couldn't stop it.

"Gisō," she warned.

"Artist," he snapped down the table. Zuko, who seemed to know what was going to happen, too, stood slowly and gave a slight bow, eyes glued to Gisō's face. Katara began twisting her hands together.

"I think you should test her Ladyship's meal."

Katara leapt to her feet, while Sokka and Aang glanced at one another. "I do not think that that is necessary," she placed a hand on her husband's shoulder. "After all, you said there's probably nothing to fear. Forgive my worry, I'm fine."

She could see the sneering laughter in Gisō's expression. "I have every right to make sure you're safe, Katara."

Lana stepped up timidly before Zuko could move. "My Lord," she began consolingly. "Surely, I should try the food for Lady Katara? I am her maid, after all…"

Katara was shaking her head. She didn't want anyone testing her food. Gisō barked at Lana to mind her place, and she fell back, chastened.

"Artist," the Fire Lord clicked his fingers, and Katara turned away, sickened. "I will not ask so kindly again."

She could see Zuko's rage at his fingertips as he approached the table. But she could also see that testing her food wasn't what angered him. In that respect, she knew that he would do it gladly, without being commanded. It was distrust in Gisō, and genuine hatred that made him shake with fury.

"You don't have to do this," Aang was trying to reestablish peace. "It's hardly necessary."

Sokka tried to stop the proceedings, too.

But Gisō was adamant. "He will test her food. And if he doesn't, we'll assume he's been involved with this conspiracy the whole time."

Katara reached for her water skein, panic threatening to burst from her chest. But Zuko stopped her with a shake of his head.

"I would gladly make sure Lady Katara can eat peacefully," he ground out defiantly.

Gisō sneered.

Zuko bent over the table in front of her, and Katara shook her head. His expression softened, and he winked at her. He picked up a spoon, as the first course was soup, and gingerly brought a mouthful to his lips. He swallowed.

They all waited.

Katara could see her pulse on the periphery of her vision, her heart pounding out the minutes that could be Zuko's last.

She understood now. Gisō knew about Zuko and her. He knew, and this was the result. This was what happened when she dared defy the Fire Lord. This was what happened. Zuko was going to die. If not now, then soon.

And it was her fault.

The seconds ticked by. It had taken the poison at least ten minutes to affect her all those nights ago, but the ensuing ten were the worst of her life. No one spoke.

On the eleventh minute, she closed her eyes and breathed.

Gisō was beaming. "There now, the soup is safe. My dear man," he beamed wickedly at Zuko. "Pull up a chair. You've just been promoted, and there are several courses to go."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry about the longer wait, guys! I'm posting today since we're coming up to the end. From now on, I'll post whenever the chapter is finished and edited. I'm fairly certain that the next chapter will be the last plus an epilogue. There's a small chance it'll be 16 chapters and an epilogue, though. **

**Thank you, Sarah, for editing!**

Chapter 14

Katara felt like she was being eaten from the inside out, that was how utterly succumbed by terror she was. The fear bubbled up in acidic bursts as the next course was delivered; it raked its claws over her heart and sharpened its teeth on her bones.

So when it turned out the course was turtleduck in a thick, red fire sauce, she leapt to her feet and knocked Zuko's forkful from his hand.

The potentially deadly utensil clattered across the table top, splattering the linen with the blood-like sauce.

Silence leeched through the air while everyone stared at the scarlet drops staining the cloth. Katara looked from Zuko to Gisō, the fear now fighting tooth and nail with more than welcoming rage. Her husband stared back at her, cold triumph lighting up his face that set bile stinging in the back of her throat. A waft of cooked meat and the tangy marinade met her senses, and she blanched.

Katara sought Cale's eye and shook her head, hoping he would understand what to do. And then she passed apologetic gazes to Aang and Sokka before rushing from the room.

* * *

"He's going to poison Zuko," Katara said bitterly.

Her feet were planted firmly on the floor, and she knew that Toph could feel the anger pulsing through her veins. She knew that it was futile to attempt hiding her feelings from the earthbender, especially after Toph had read her so accurately the first night they met. _And besides_, the Fire Lady thought resentfully, _if Gisō knows about my feelings for Zuko, then who cares if everyone does._

Katara had not been able to confront Gisō after last night's terrifying meal. After fleeing with Lana close on her heels, she had barricaded herself in her room. In the proceeding minutes while she awaited dreadful news, Katara careened recklessly around the room packing things and preparing her weapons—for what? Nothing happened. No disruptions reached her ears. Lana had disappeared and reappeared with news that Cale had taken Zuko back to his quarters. He stayed there, promising to give Katara Ty Lee that night. Only then did Katara feel her breaths regain normalcy.

She didn't know what Gisō had done or where he had gone. Aang had stopped by to see if she was okay. Sokka hadn't. He had to realize something was going on, yet he didn't come check on her. Katara hadn't been able to tell if it was shock at realizing his sister was a two-timer, or if Gisō's behavior had taken the cake on that score. But, honestly, it hadn't crossed her mind to care very much when she couldn't shake Zuko from her thoughts. First thing in the morning, she, Lana, and Ty Lee came to Toph's cell.

Toph contemplated the beats from Katara's pulse before replying sadly, "No, he won't."

"He knows I love him," Katara insisted, shivers setting in. "He's going to poison him."

The Bandit threw herself unceremoniously onto the bed. "Trust me, Sugar Queen, your husband's not going to poison your lover. But you'll wish he had."

And Katara had been so certain she couldn't possibly admit more fear into her body.

"Toph," she said in surprisingly measured tones, "I need you to tell me what Gisō has been saying to you."

Her prisoner clammed up and averted her unseeing eyes. Katara sat down on the bed and put a comforting hand on the girl's leg. "Toph?"

"How did you wind up marrying a guy like him, anyways?" Came the gruff reply.

Even though the time Katara had spent with the Bandit had been minimal at best, she still thought she understood exactly what made the girl tick. She knew that this was a part of a long process that Toph needed to go through. She chewed on her lip, trying to settle her thoughts into a coherent answer, when she devised a plan.

"How about for every question I answer, you answer one, too."

"Fair enough," Toph nodded, suddenly business like. She sat up again and swung her feet to the floor besides Katara's. "So, why'd'ya marry him?"

"For peace between the nations."

"Did you love him?"

"You're starting off badly at this," Katara answered cynically. "But, yes. I did love him."

"You're unsure."

Katara glared at her traitorous feet. "I suppose I thought I loved him because I knew it could have been worse. I felt lucky that things seemed to go so well. Maybe I was fooled."

Toph nodded again. "Better. Okay, Sugar, ask me something."

"What has he been telling you?"

"Not much. He's been trying to persuade me to confess to your assassination attempt. That I'm somehow in league with Zhao and Ari. He has never even talked about the thievery."

"How is he trying to persuade you?"

"It's my turn."

"You asked me two questions!"

Stubborn silence. Ugh.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"What's up with Sparky?"

"Sparky?"

"Zuko."

"Oh." Katara felt her lip twitch at the nickname she knew Zuko would resent. "I don't know—I just love him."

Funny how the emotion had crashed into her so forcefully and abruptly. Absolutely like a tidal wave. But she was adamant.

"I want a little more than that. How did you meet?"

Katara hadn't taken Toph for a gossip, but decided to humor the girl. "I go home to the Southern Water Tribe every few months to be near my family and the ocean. A month ago, while I was there, a massive caravan of merchants and artisans were, too. He was one of them."

Toph looked on the verge of another question, but Katara jumped ahead of her.

"How does Gisō try persuading you that you had something to do with Zhao and Ari?"

Toph's lips pressed together and she looked tired. "I can't explain it that well. All I know is that there are at least two other people with him when he comes down. He asks the questions or says the phrases, and they just stand near the walls. I sit in that chair over there."

Katara followed the waving hand and noticed a crude, wooden chair with arm restraints.

"He locks you in it?"

"Yep. And then he starts saying things like, 'You sent Zhao after Lady Katara. He is your pawn.' Like he thinks I'm going to magically agree with that load of garbage."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, but it's my turn," Toph asserted. Katara did not push her.

"What's your family like?"

Had Sokka been here, he would have looked past his adoration of Toph Beifong, and would have become suspicious of all the personal questions. That was Katara's first, biting instinct. But it was so small a feeling, and she thought she glimpsed the truth behind Toph's interest.

The girl wanted normalcy. She liked Katara, and, Katara admitted to herself, she rather liked Toph. Bridges were being crossed, and if Katara had to tell the prisoner a few homey tidbits about herself to foil Gisō's plans, she'd write an autobiography.

"My father is Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. His name is Hakoda."

Beginning with innocuous details nearly everyone in the nations knew, Katara drew a map of her life for her blind companion to follow. Sokka, Suki, and Tikaani made up part of the cast. She told Toph about how the pirates killed her mother—how that seemed the final straw before the War of Fire and Water broke out. How it was hard to see all of the nations suffering from the feud. She told Toph how she trained with Master Pakku, how, in an attempt to smother the flames of war she and Gisō had agreed to wed.

The whole spiel took less than ten minutes, but Katara began to feel time weigh on her shoulders.

"May I ask one more question for today?"

Toph was on her back, again, staring at the ceiling, seemingly ruminating on Katara's story. After another awful moment, she nodded.

"Are there any other details you can think of about your interrogations?"

Expecting it, Toph was quick to answer. "When the two other people come in with Gisō, I can hear and feel them setting something up. But I have no idea what it is. All I know is that the lights do odd things while he talks. Something moves in circles around me. The whole thing makes me really sleepy. He doesn't like that."

Utterly unsure of what to make of this news, Katara asked one other simple question. "You can perceive lights?"

"Just a little. Like I said, it's hard to explain. I just get the idea that at one moment, there's a bright light, but then it's gone the next. Back and forth, back and forth."

Toph appeared exhausted, and Katara decided that this visit was enough for today.

"Thank you for sharing with me, Toph. I'll be back soon."

"Please, do," she heard whispered as she shut the door behind her.

* * *

Dismissing Lana and Ty Lee so that she could think about Toph's words, Katara made her way back up to her room. She wanted to collect her boomerang and find Sokka. She still hadn't heard from him, and was beginning to worry that maybe he was angry with her for her behavior. The idea of her brother not being on her side was excruciating to consider.

When she rounded into the hall with the Epic of Gisō, Katara faltered in her stride. Two guards were outside of her doors; ones she recognized as being some of her husband's personal escort. She approached hesitantly. They only nodded in brief acknowledgement.

Despite their stony faces, Katara was sure they'd at least stop any physical altercations that Gisō might instigate, because she could only deduce that he waited for her inside. The thought made her fingers twitch spastically. She shoved the doors open, childishly wishing they were lighter so that they'd slam into the walls.

Gisō was sitting in her desk chair, facing the entrance. The two stared at one another, openly hostile, no longer trying to hide behind duplicitous smiles and false assurances. Katara imagined a gaping chasm in the floor between them, and began mentally willing the man to fall in.

"How dare you make Zuko try my food," she growled when the Fire Lord finally shifted in his seat.

Gisō snorted. "Please, Katara. Sticking up for the peasantry doesn't become you."

The comment was meant to goad because Katara knew that Zuko's class was of no consequence to Gisō. He could have been a king and her husband would still find a way to look down his nose at the man.

"Let's not waste time, Gisō. You don't care if my food is poisoned," she spat, moving cautiously forward.

Her husband's eyes widened just a fraction. "That isn't true, Katara."

She refused to be sidetracked by that. He was masterful in manipulation.

"You just want to watch me squirm by making Zuko eat whatever is placed in front of me. You know."

The Fire Lord shot to his feet, flames curling around his fists. "You are damn certain I know," he hissed, stalking toward her. "How dare _I_?" He reiterated her question from earlier. "How dare _you_? Flaunting your affair around the palace like a common whore!"

He stopped just shy of her, but Katara remained standing still.

"That's not going to work," she whispered, unfazed by his accusation. "I do not flaunt my feelings for Zuko. I'm not sure how you know anything. You have spies don't you?"

"Surely, that doesn't come as a surprise?" Gisō reached out and coiled a ring of her hair around his finger. "And you might not gush for all to see but anyone who looks at you can tell where you've been. Whose bed you've been in." The smell of singeing hair had Katara yanking away from him.

"I haven't been in his bed," she said, shoving his arm away from her. And she hadn't. Not in the way Gisō was insinuating. For all her certainty that her marriage was virtually over, Katara hadn't slept with Zuko. She hadn't done it because she knew her duty as Fire Lady was far from complete.

Her husband rolled his eyes, sneering. "You should be relieved. I'm simply taking the proper steps to protect you, my little _turtleduck."_

Katara's stomach roiled at the memory of last night, but she stood firm. "I repeat: I don't think me being poisoned really bothers you. And, if it did," she added with a smirk, "You should have tasted my food yourself, _dearest_."

That got him. His face twisted maliciously, and a touch of mania glinted in his murky eyes. He shoved his face into hers. "Be lucky that I don't expose your little game, Katara." Gisō warned lowly. "The only reason I don't disown and divorce you now is because there are too many things at stake for an insignificant scandal to get out. I don't have time for the unpleasant gossip these peoples are wont to participate in."

He rolled his eyes as he spoke, and Katara sensed that his paranoia was getting worse. It was disturbing. Gisō's eyes narrowed, and his lip curled. "One word and I could have you destroyed. No one would ever look at you again. One word and I could have your precious artist removed from the palace. Permanently."

Katara flinched when his saliva flicked her face. He whisked away from her, heading to the door. Her heart was exploding behind her skin. He turned around, straightening his robes. "I know you've been looking around for things that best remain hidden. I know that whatever we had is over. But, if you don't watch yourself, I'll burn your little love story until there's nothing left but blood and ashes."

When the doors closed behind him, Katara let out a shallow breath. But no fear clouded her eyes as she searched her room for her boomerang. No sickening worry shook her fingers as she sent whips of water snapping around the apartments. Nothing was safe from the resolute ferocity that guided her actions.

Fifteen minutes later, her curtains, her canopy, her blankets, and half her wardrobe were littering the floor, sliced into jagged ribbons. The chair that Gisō had been occupying was in splinters, and many of her perfume bottles and trinkets he had gifted her over the years were shattered remnants; just like her marriage.

This was how Aang and Sokka found her.

"Katara?"

The sound of a human voice startled her after all of the tearing and smashing that she had been doing. She looked over her shoulder. "Hi, Aang. Sokka."

"What in the world happened here?" Her brother nearly squeaked. He rushed forward and began checking her for wounds. "Katara, did someone do this to your room?"

"Yes," she said faintly as Sokka glanced over her so anxiously. "I did." And then she was sobbing in his arms.

"I thought y-you didn't want t-to see me," she hiccupped hysterically into his shoulder.

Sokka, nonplussed, patted her back. "Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

"You didn't c-come with Aang last night to check on me. I thought maybe you hated me for what I did!"

Sokka shot a pleading look at Aang, who shook his head rapidly, as if to say: this is all you.

"Katara, I might not understand the situation, and it might be a little overwhelming, but I'd never abandon you. And I certainly wouldn't criticize you without hearing the facts."

This gained him a giggle. "You criticize me plenty," she sniffed, feeling better. She stepped away from him and wiped her tears, a little embarrassed at her outburst. "I was just so emotionally stressed last night after Zuko had to taste test my food."

"About that," Sokka adopted a more professional tone. "Why did Gisō pull that stunt? I mean—well. Just tell me from the beginning."

It took about an hour to get a decently coherent narrative out of the way, but at the end of it, Aang and Sokka were caught up with everything that had been plaguing Katara for the past month. Zuko, Toph, the mystery surrounding Ila; all was laid bare for her friends to examine.

After her final statement—which involved the latest fight with Gisō and talking down Sokka from charging after the Fire Lord—everyone sat in contemplative quiet. Her brother finally sighed and ran his hand down his face.

"You were going to take all this on by yourself? Sheesh, Katara. I will never understand that about you. You're always so willing to lend a hand but never ask for one in return."

It wasn't a harsh criticism, more of a defeated remark. And she knew this about herself anyway. She _had_ stolen a sacred script from the most revered waterbender rather than ask for more training time when Aang was progressing faster than her. She just could never bear for people to see any sort of weakness in her. But, now, she reveled in the help being promised her.

"So you'll both help me?"

Aang nodded. "Of course, Katara. It seems to me that the most important thing to do now is keep an eye on Zuko. I don't trust Gisō's stability right now, and he might attack the man. And then I'd suggest finding out who Ila is."

"I sent a messenger hawk to Master Pakku asking him, but I expect it'll be a few days."

A resounding slap had the pair staring concernedly at Sokka. His hand was pressed to his forehead. "That's what I wanted to tell you before you started crying on me!"

Katara rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Master Pakku's here! And so are dad and Suki!"

Katara jumped up from her spot on the floor. "Dad's here? Everyone's here?"

"Yeah! I sent a letter a few days ago asking Dad to come because I thought you needed some cheering up. I was on the fence about Suki coming because of Tikaani, and I have to admit that I'm a little remiss that she decided to come, especially now that I know my brother-in-law is going coo-coo, but I can see how she'd be helpful to our current dilemma."

Katara blinked at her overly verbose brother. "I'd love to see them, where are they?"

"I left Lana to help them set up in their rooms. I told her I'd come get them so we could all have a little reunion of sorts in the gardens or something."

"Great! I need to ask Master Pakku my questions right away."

Having her family with her in the Fire Nation palace was almost just as good as visiting them at the South Pole. Suki was beyond excited to see Katara, and the two hugged and laughed and cried for just long enough to make the men uncomfortable.

Once the tearful pleasantries had been exchanged—Tikaani had gained two whole pounds in the last month!—the little group settled down for tea in Katara's favorite gardens. Lana served them; happily answering questions from Suki; while Cale and Ty Lee stationed themselves by the gates.

In an unspoken agreement between the three friends, no one said anything about the more delicate details of Katara's plights. None of them really wanted Hakoda knowing such things unless it became necessary. Katara knew that she'd tell Suki everything later in a more private setting.

Instead, they focused on Ila.

It turned out that Master Pakku had received Katara's correspondence before they left the South Pole to come here. He had remained there to help Hakoda with some errant pirates.

"Pirates?" Katara dropped her tea spoon on the table. "There were pirates?"

Hakoda put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Katara. It was a sad little band of desperate thieves. Their ship barely made it to the shore. Nothing serious happened."

Still, Katara frowned.

Master Pakku cleared his throat. "Let's discuss your late night visitor, Katara. You said that there was no clue as to who left the note. And all that it said was 'Ila'?"

"Yes. It was shoved under my door. The guards didn't see anyone while they were making the rounds in the bedroom halls."

"And what has Gisō said on the matter?"

Pakku set steady eyes on her, hands folded primly beneath his chin. Katara had always thought that the man could read minds or see souls, and now was just such a moment. She knew anything but the truth would be pointless.

"I haven't told him about it."

Suki and Hakoda frowned in confusion, but remained silent.

"Interesting. Surely the Fire Lord might have some idea as to anyone who has been in the palace?"

Katara clenched her jaw. "He probably would," she agreed, coldly. "But as things go, I didn't think it wise to bother him with it."

Pakku narrowed his eyes and studied her for a few more seconds, and then his face relaxed. "I did know an Ila, yes. She's dead."

Somehow, Katara wasn't very surprised. "Who was she?"

Pakku sipped some of his jasmine tea. "She was a Northern Water tribe healer. She came here some forty years ago to be a wet nurse to families close to the royal one. Namely, Fire Lady Ursa's family."

The only sound to be heard was the birds. Lana, Cale, and Ty Lee were even listening raptly.

"Ila was twenty years old when she began her duties. The young girl who would become Fire Lady was only three or four. Ila nursed her younger cousins, but she became a fast favorite of Ursa. The two were nearly inseparable, by all accounts."

"She died in the assassinations, didn't she?" Katara asked softly.

Master Pakku nodded. "Years and years later, she was killed along with Ozai, Ursa, Iroh, the child…there was no one left. Except maybe one person."

"What?" The group collectively leaned closer to Pakku.

"One person was never really accounted for after all of the deaths. It's not known what happened to her, but I honestly believe she fled the palace. Ila had a very young apprentice named Nell. She wasn't a bender, but Ila was teaching her alternative ways to heal. She was so young and had just started with Ila, that the tragedy more than likely ruined her psychologically. She disappeared."

Immediately, Katara's mind was searching through the countless names she had pored over in the library. She felt that the name heralded an answer, and was itching to rush from the garden to the archives, but she knew that she had a responsibility to her family and friends, first.

She stood, quickly followed by everyone else. "I'm so glad that you're all here. It honestly takes a load off my mind to know I have your support. I'd be glad to have help in the library, tomorrow. Suki, would you like to visit Himitsu with me?"

Katara knew that now was the time to visit the nurse. They had been avoiding each other, Katara out of anger, and Himitsu out of nerves more than likely. Perhaps Suki would provide a friendly segue into conversation. And maybe Katara would be able to get more answers about Zuko out of her old friend.

Suki quickly agreed to the invitation, and the two were about to make an exit, but Master Pakku stopped them.

"May I speak with my student alone, for just a moment?"

Suki nodded and went to wait with Cale and Ty Lee in the adjacent hall. Sokka, Hakoda, and Aang left to inspect the military barracks. Katara steeled herself for a reprimand.

Master and student regarded one another intently in the blissful surroundings of the garden. The wind carried all of the calming scents Katara lauded it for, and the current confrontation almost seemed blasphemous in her little sanctuary.

"What is it?" She began, bluntly.

Master Pakku chuckled from his seat across the way. He had taken it, unconcerned at the propriety he was failing to observe in doing so. He watched Katara from over crossed arms, and from under skeptical brows.

She narrowed her eyes and placed her palms on the table. "Is there something humorous about the situation?"

"No, not humorous. But you are always a wonder to observe, Katara."

Unsure of how to react to the statement, Katara cocked an eyebrow.

"When you were in the South Pole, I distinctly remember an unpleasantness between us."

Katara snorted, feeling the reminder did not merit a reply. Pakku continued:

"I told you that crowns had a habit of making women compliant."

Her fingernails dug lightly into the table. "Yes, you did."

Her master's eyes lost their jesting light, and grew somber and serious. "You're thinking of challenging that." He leaned forward. "This business with Ila…the things you aren't telling me or your father. You're stirring up a rebellion, aren't you?"

The question was berating, but the tone was Master Pakku's own mysterious blend of encouragement and admiration. Katara felt her spine straighten, and smiled at the old man's smirk.

"You have no idea."

* * *

"And she didn't tell you why Zuko upset her so much?"

"No; that's what I find so strange about it. She's been absent. Although, I haven't really been to see her, either," Katara finished lamely.

She and Suki made their way to the infirmary wing, escorted by Lana and Cale; the latter having returned from the barracks to remain close to Katara. Katara's thoughts were a harassed jumble: images of Zuko, Pakku, the library, and Gisō were all rolling around in her head. She shook herself and tried to remain focused on the task at hand.

At the door, Cale and Lana retreated. Katara beckoned Suki to follow.

There were no patients today. Katara was glad to see this. She remembered the young girl that she and Zuko had sat beside that disastrous evening days and days ago, and hoped that her absence bode well. Himitsu was nowhere to be seen, but Katara thought she heard the woman bustling around in the storeroom. She and Suki sat.

"Himitsu?" She called gently, not wanting to frighten her friend. The shuffling stopped, and then Himitsu appeared.

She looked alright, though maybe a little vexed at Katara's presence. Her face was a little pale under the flush of working in the storeroom, but she was otherwise in control of her emotions. Suki seemed to calm her, and Katara made sure to look calm and welcoming. After a moment, Himitsu smiled at them and began preparing tea.

"Himitsu, this is Sokka's wife, Suki," Katara introduced. "Suki, Himitsu."

The older woman swung back around from her stove, eyes lively and beaming now. She walked quickly over to Suki, who stood from her chair, smiling just as happily. The women embraced one another, and then Himitsu examined the girl closely, palms cupping Suki's face.

Katara watched them, heart warming at the sight of two of her best friends greeting each other like mother and daughter. Suki was explaining how wonderful it was to finally meet Himitsu, while Himitsu grinned and clucked her tongue in agreement.

After Suki had resumed her seat and Himitsu her tea things, Katara asked about the girl who had been sick a few days ago. She still avoided discussing Zuko.

Himitsu clapped her hands together and nodded, signifying that the girl had healed and was returned home. She set out the tea and cups, and then joined them.

"I'm glad she is better," Katara murmured as she sipped her tea. She watched Himitsu out of the corner of her eye, trying to determine if it would be ill-advised to just ask the question foremost in her thoughts.

As if she could sense the struggle in Katara's heart, Himitsu met her gaze with steady eyes. She clenched her jaw, and rapidly flicked her gaze to Suki. She wondered, then, if it was wise to discuss these matters in front of Suki.

Katara nodded, and then spoke. "Himitsu, why did Zuko scare you?"

Himitsu's eyes widened in spite of herself. She chewed on her lip and stared down at her tea. Katara could see the woman's knuckles turning white as she gripped the tea cup. She shook her head.

"Are you scared of him?"

Another shake.

"Do you know him?"

Nothing. Himitsu remained resolutely still. Suki placed a hand on the rigid woman's arm.

"It's okay, Himitsu. Just, tell us what you can."

Katara sent Suki a look of thanks. She turned back to Himitsu, trying to think of questions that would be okay for her to answer.

"Is there a reason you don't want to tell us?"

A nod.

"I think that you do know who he is, but I won't press you for answers about that. But, I need to know: is he dangerous?"

Himitsu shook her head wildly, but then slowed. Her eyes had narrowed slightly. She bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Katara nodded. "You don't know."

Himitsu nodded.

"Does his presence make you uncomfortable?"

She waved her hand in the air.

"It makes you a little uncomfortable. Himitsu, is Zuko in danger here?"

A teeny nod.

Katara's heart fluttered. "Why?"

Himitsu shook her head.

Suki jumped in. "Identifying him would be dangerous to him, wouldn't it, Himitsu?"

The older woman nodded, and Katara was distressed to see tears streaming down her cheeks. She sighed, knowing that she wouldn't get much else out of the woman about Zuko.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Ila?"

Once again, Himitsu became rigid. She swallowed heavily, and then waved her arm around in the air.

"What does she mean by that?" Suki asked confusedly.

"She wants to know who the guard is outside," Katara interpreted. Himitsu was pantomiming a swinging sword, which was how she expressed soldiers. "Cale is outside with Lana, Himitsu. You're safe to tell us whatever you can."

Himitsu sighed. She stood and went to her cupboard, and pulled a pen and paper out. She scrawled something, and then passed it to Katara.

On the page, in the handwriting from before, was written: Ila.

Katara's eyes rose to meet her friend's. The verification of who had sent the note did little to surprise the Fire Lady. She felt, deep down, that she had always known Himitsu had sent the note. She felt even more relieved that she hadn't discussed Ila with Gisō.

Finally, she asked the only question left that might dean an answer. If Himitsu said yes, Katara knew that getting Zuko to safety was imperative.

"Is Zuko's past connected to Ila's?"

* * *

Katara ran.

Suki was behind her, as were Lana and Cale. She ignored their pleas to slow down, to explain. She just kept going.

She didn't know why her feet were taking her to Toph's cell, of all places, but her instincts were screaming for her to do so. Her mind tried to figure out why as she went.

Through the passages, across the halls, down the stairs the little group flew. No one stopped them as they went. Katara prayed that whoever was guarding Toph would easily bend to Cale's authority. She knew that they couldn't afford to meet with Gisō or his men.

Luck was on their side. Cale was able to send the soldier in the hall away with no issues. He opened the door for Katara and Suki, and then shut it again.

"Toph, I need to ask you more questions and I need the truth, now," Katara panted as she and Suki skidded into the cell.

Toph was sprawled on the bed, picking at her nails. "What's got your robe in a twist, Sugar Queen?"

"What has Gisō told you?"

Toph grunted and swung her feet to the floor. "I thought we've been over this already. Who is the new girl?"

"Sokka's wife," Katara answered distractedly. "Toph, I need you to think carefully. Is there anything at all that strikes you as wrong about Gisō?"

"Yeah, lots of things. Like how he's brainwashing me into accepting that I was out to kill you."

Suki gasped but Katara held up a hand.

"Aside from that. I know the interrogations are distressing and that he is terrible. But…what else?"

Toph was quiet as she blinked at the floor. Her feet twitched, and a smirk appeared on her face.

"The things I could tell you about your husband," she growled harshly.

Katara fought from rolling her eyes. She did not have time for one of Toph's mood swings, even if it was twisted and controlled by Gisō. She had no room for pity when Zuko's well being was a stake.

"What sorts of things?" She demanded through a shaking voice. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.

"Well," the bedraggled thief's lip curled. "He isn't who he says he is."


End file.
